


The Story of Emmalina

by Rihaan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Drama & Romance, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Retcon, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 20:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 71,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rihaan/pseuds/Rihaan
Summary: A series of misadventures in love and patience leads to Emma and Regina's happy mistake. The results, and the reactions, are very mixed.The town of Storybrooke is introduced to a five year-long conspiracy, that will rock the annals of time, and beyond. Another product of True Love, wreaking havoc, yet again.No oneis ready for Emmalina.More importantly, no one is ready for whattheyare.Unashamed Revised History SwanQueen.





	1. Emmina Doesn't Sound as Good

“I… I don’t understand.”

The beautiful woman that showed up at her door, her white leather gleaming on a lovely Spring day in Storybrooke, smiled innocently, and Snow White had the distinct impression that she lost a competition that she didn’t know she was a part of. “Sorry, Mo- I, uh, Mary-Margaret. It’s complicated. Took me a while to figure it out myself. And I caused it to happen in the first place.” She linked her hands behind her back. “Can I come in?”

With wary eyes, Snow let in the woman who had introduced herself as Emmalina. Reaching behind the door, she grabbed her trusty bow hanging on the coat rack, and took a few arrows out of the umbrella stand.

Emmalina raised her hands, her back still turned to the brunette. Snow hesitated before raising the bow, eying the dirty blond highlights in familiar sheen of black hair.

It was longer, sure, but she remembered when Regina had long hair. It was beautiful.

Now, even more so.

Snow lifted her bow, and with a start, realized it wasn’t her bow at all, but rather, a…

“A _cupcake_?”

The woman turned around, clapping her hands together. “Ah! You remembered!” Her innocent smile was still there, but there was a tinge of amusement in her startlingly familiar green eyes. “At least, I hope you will. I want you to celebrate my new birthday with me. It’s not everyday you get reborn, right?”

“I… still don’t understand.”

“That’s fair, I guess. I’m getting ahead of myself. Part of me is so used to long-term plans, but I’m also really spur of the moment, y’know?” She took a deep breath and extended her hand. “Let’s start this again. Hi. I’m your daughter. And your mother.”

* * *

Emmalina sat patiently as Snow White muttered to herself, pacing back and forth in the sitting room, processing her thoughts. Her mind was a new, foreign, and oddly familiar thing.

“Worst case scenario,” she said, her voice reaching a higher frequency usually reserved for her birds, “I thought you two might have been dating! But _this_?!”

“Well, we were dating,” She defended herself, “Ever since the curse broke. Technically. We were dating way before that.”

“What? _When_?”

“First night in Storybrooke. You won’t get it, but seeing Emma in that tank top and jeans screwed Regina up in a major way.”

Snow frowned. “You’re right, I don’t get it.”

“Well, what drew you to Charming?”

“You. You introduced me to him, remember?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got to fix that.” A notebook swirled into existence in her hand, followed by a feathered quill, and she scribbled something into the book. “We’ve got a few changes to make to fix everything.”

“We?”

“Oh, sorry. Still speaking in plurals. I feel like one person, but, it’s hard to think as one, you know?”

“I don’t.”

She leveled the schoolteacher with an unimpressed stare. “Stupid is not a good look on you, dear.”

Snow’s jaw dropped in horror at the frighteningly familiar verbiage, before pointing an accusatory finger. “I knew it! You absorbed my daughter!”

She raised her hands again, along with a delicate eyebrow. “I assure you, it was a mutual absorbtion. Absorbing? Absorption… yeah, that’s it.” She crossed her legs, her notebook and feather quill falling over and disappearing in a cloud of white smoke before it hit the ground. “We fused. Regina and Emma. Not Emma and I, not Regina and I. _Emma and Regina_. I am someone else. _Emmalina_.”

Snow White didn’t want to admit it – the woman before her had explained it quite well at this point – but she still didn’t fully understand. “But _how_?!”

“True Love’s Kiss, of course.”

“BULLSHIT!”

“Woah!” Emmalina let out a laugh, loud and pure, and –

Snow winced as a bird smacked into her window.

The sound made Emmalina laugh harder.

“Stop!” she cried, distressed. Emma wouldn’t have laughed at that… would she?

“Oh, relax,” she sighed, waving her off, even as she tried to suppress her giggles. “It’s just – I’ve never heard you swear before. In any lifetime. Fairest in the land, my ass.” Waving again, in the general direction of the window, she watched with a smirk as the blue jay got up, shook its little beak and flew off. “Now, do you believe me?” She tilted her head, enjoying the look of shock on her friend’s face at the small bird’s resurrection.

“H-how – “

“Light magic. Like I said, stupid doesn’t suit you. Anyway, I can’t really tell you exactly how this happened. It’s never happened before. There seems to be some criteria that has never been met before, from my studies in the tomb; a criteria that I don’t think has been replicated before. Two magically powerful people, a cocktail of light and dark magic, A pair of true loves, and a heart made _from_ true love. So, you’re to blame a little bit for this.”

Snow took another, deep look at Emmalina as she paused to present herself, her familiar smile and high cheekbones and green eyes and familiar vein in her forehead… wait.

“Your scar… on your lip…”

“Oh,” Emmalina suddenly frowned, reaching up to place her finger on _exactly_ where the scar on her upper lip would have been. “Well, supposedly, I’m a mix of all of our best features. So physical flaws wouldn’t carry over. Emma _loved_ it, but Regina felt that it reminded her of Cora.”

Mary Margaret bit her lip. She knew that anything about Cora was a sensitive topic, so the fact that this woman was so casually mentioning the abuse she took from her mother was uncomfortable in itself, in front of her proxy killer no less, but it gave the entire story some merit. “How did this happen? What triggered this?”

The witch grinned, and her green eyes glimmered. “I don’t think you want to get into the gritty details of that. Let’s just say we went to bed in a coma-ish type of way, and I woke up this morning as Emmalina. Name pending.” She leaned forward on her elbows. “Why would your daughter falling in love with Regina be, in your words, ‘bullshit’? Or is the other way around any crazier?”

Snow tried to find the right words, realizing that she wasn’t entirely sure who she was talking to at the moment; or rather, which personality may surface. “I just can’t see it. Emma’s good. Regina’s… not.”

“ _Evil_ , yes, I get it. And they say nicknames don’t stick past high school.” She sat back in the chair. “Such a hypocrite, saying that you believed all those years that there might be some good in her. Honestly, I thought you would’ve had problems with the age difference. Regina was thirty-three when Emma was born, you know.”

Snow White narrowed her eyes. “I’m aware.”

“Oh, let the past be the past,” she waved her off again. “I did. Or rather, Emma did.”

“What? Why would Emma be mad at me in the first – “

“Do I have to spell it out for you? I haven’t been doing that enough this past ten minutes?” Emmalina started to look annoyed. “You didn’t abandon your baby in another realm? You didn’t rely on a prophecy told by the baddest villain in a millennium and take it as gospel when it comes to the safety of your two-minutes-old daughter?”

“What – I – Regina put us in that situation! We didn’t have a choice, Emma!”

“First: don’t talk about Regina like she’s not in the room. Second: I’m not Emma; I don’t think _that_ shortening of our name would really work in this instance. Third: We all have a choice. All of us. I had a long talk with my son about that just this morning, but you know why Emma doesn’t regret giving him up for adoption? She knew they were going to take him, anyway. She vetted out a list of potential candidates. She knew she was giving him to someone wonderful, and someone who really wanted a child. She knew he was going to have a better life in Regina. I know this family likes to take leaps of faith and everything usually working out for the better far more than it should’ve, but come the fuck on! If you were so _hopeful_ about _everything_ , then why didn’t you just _keep your goddamn baby_?”

Snow’s lips trembled, taking a step back. Emmalina looked murderous, still seated, legs still crossed, but with a frown she knew all too well. “You speak so much about family and love, but you’re really talking about your husband and your son, people you would _never_ part from. And your father. Don’t get me fucking started with him.”

“Don’t you dare -!” Snow started, only to be silenced with another wave.

“No. I dare.” She stood, and suddenly Snow was flung into the chair she just occupied. Emmalina paced the floor, stepping in white leather heels, and only then Snow realized that the bright, flawless leather number she wore reminded her of what the Evil Queen would have worn in the Enchanted Forest, with a lot more white and a lot less cleavage. “The fusion isn’t a hundred percent yet,” she grit, shaking her black tresses about, “Emma thought she had let the past of your abandonment go, but Regina hasn’t. Regina thought she let the memories of your father go. Emma hasn’t. I guess I’m a little pissed at everything. Soon, I’ll have all of this sorted, and we’ll be one. I still have the memories of raising Henry in two different lifetimes. And one of them is completely manufactured.” She shook her head. “That’s _love_. Taking each other’s pain as their own, each other’s enemies as your own. Sorry to tell you this, Mary Margaret, but I don’t think even half of me likes you right now.”

Snow drew quick breaths as Emmalina stalked closer, smirking that damned familiar smirk that she had faced down countless times before, in another time. “Emma wants to hurt you. Regina wants to watch.”

She suddenly frowned and turned away, sighing to herself. “But Regina knows Emma might regret it. So Emmalina will forgive you. For everything. It’s all in the past, right? New person, new slate. Besides, if you had been a good mom and made sure to keep her in your arms, Emma would have been a baby for twenty-eight years. Henry wouldn’t have been born. Regina wouldn’t have found her other half. I suppose I should thank you for getting her red herring killed.”

She waved again, and Snow found herself able to speak. “Red herring? Daniel?”

“She was sixteen. Of course, she thought that he was her true love. He was the first person who gave her positive reinforcement, other than Prince Henry. Of course, their kisses never broke any curses. In fact, it began Regina’s cursed life. Regina and Emma’s kiss; now _that_ meant something. It was the beginning of a new life, in yours truly.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she grinned, not minding the sarcasm in the slightest. “Because despite your best efforts, you gave us so much in common. I mean, they liked their sexual relationship just fine,” she continued, ignoring Snow’s disgusted grimace, “and maybe that’s all it would’ve been. There were a few road bumps, of course. Some therapy. Emma almost chopped down Regina’s apple tree that one time, after a, um, minor crisis.” She grinned fondly. “Emma took one look at Regina’s scared face and dropped the axe. After the curse broke, she could have repaired the tree from the one swing Emma _did_ take, but she didn’t. She loves it just as much. She admires Emma’s strength. Their relationship took a deeper meaning, after that.”

Well, she more than ‘admired’ Emma’s physical prowess, but she decided she wasn’t going to tell Snow White that.

“Anyway, back to me,” she continued conjuring a small throne for herself. “You might have been wondering how this was happening these past five years? Well, I have to be honest, it was easier than you’d think. But not much different than the lie you’ve believed. Just the Evil Queen and the Savior in love, while trying not to be too pissed off at the rest of the world. And you guys. Man, you guys tried real hard to piss us off. Well, me.” She frowned. “I guess, speaking in past tense, us. Yeah, ‘us’ works. You pissed us off. From the dwarves to the fairies to our extended family.”

She sat down on the marble seat and crossed her legs again, folding her hands and smiling charmingly at Snow White. “So where do you want to begin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Special Thank you to the Patrons who helped me get through a shitty time (Alexander S, Ranma, AtomicStryker, and mxwn).
> 
> Should be a relatively short story, and a bit of a crackfic, but I'm having fun with this - pointing it out first, this seems eerily similar to what I did with "Choices, Choices", what with the making fun with the series as a whole, but more of an homage to the fanfictions I've read than the show itself. Still a brilliant show, but I am very much immersed in the SwanQueen fandom, and names like SkinnyProcrastinator (We'll miss you!), hunnyfresh, caballlah, and many other great authors you can find in my [favs](http://s.rihaansfics.com/tag/swanqueen+monogamy).
> 
> I seem to have a hang-up on doing shows that aren't completed. Like, I'm just not good at writing it unless I got the full picture. I can revisit those other two OUAT fics now, maybe retcon it. I really enjoyed the last season of this show (Robin/Alice = ♥) and I have some ideas.
> 
>  **Fair Warning:**  No BS. As you might have guessed, Pure SwanQueen to the end. So prepare for some serious retconning.
> 
> You can find the **next chapter** at the beautiful-looking and functioning [rihaansfics.com](http://go.rihaansfics.com/emmalina).
> 
> Thank you for reading, please review and/or leave kudos!


	2. And Emmagina Just Sounds... Wrong.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snow White has questions. Unfortunately for her, she gets her answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my Favorite $5+ Patrons: Alexander S, Ranma, AtomicStryker, mxwn.
> 
> A Special thank you to those who have reviewed: LauratheChef and Ship_Wrecked. Yup. That's it. Thank you very much for caring! (And to Melanacious and kuroneko22 for your Kudos!)

“H-how did this happen? How did you two decide to be together like this?” It wasn’t her priority question, but she was beyond curious.

She took a moment to gather her… their thoughts. “Well, it started with my super power. My original one; the bullshit detector. Emma asked Regina if she loved her son. Regina was naturally affronted at the question, yelled for a bit, and that was enough for Emma. Thing is, she already put a down payment on the room at Granny’s, and she needed a vacation anyway. She just found her son, for God’s sake, who she thought was having a delusional breakdown at the time. She couldn’t have found a better opportunity to take a break from her work.

“So Emma showed up the next day with a cinnamon bouquet and an apology. I guess you could say the rest is history.” Emmalina shrugged. “But if I’m to thoroughly convince you of the validity of _me_ , I guess you should know more. Firstly, we broke the curse. Regina was scared out of her mind before and after. “‘I can’t kiss you,'” she quoted, sounding _exactly like Regina_. “‘Because I am afraid what might come next.'” Snow finally took into account her voice, a melodious tone, smooth, a bit deeper like Regina’s, and playful as Emma’s. It was a perfect mix. “By that point, she told Emma and Henry the truth, and at that point, had a decision to make. ‘I’ll always be here,’ Emma had promised. ‘And so is Henry. We won’t let anything happen to you. And if the curse breaks – well, you’ll have your proof that I’m here to stay.’ It’s all really sappy once you think about it. But it had to happen. The Savior fulfilled her destiny, like everyone wanted.”

Snow thought it was amazing how she switched between voices. “So you two broke the curse? With True Love’s Kiss? That’s how we got our memories back?”

She nodded the affirmative. “Then the angry mob arrived, and Emma came out of the mansion and announced that she had arrested the queen. Of course, Grumpy decided to be an idiot and tried to challenge her. I’m sure you remember his arrest.”

The memory of betrayal on her friend’s face as he was dragged away _still_ upset Snow. She and David had fought viciously to get him released, but Emma had none of it. “You didn’t have to arrest him, Emma.”

“Better than the alternative. Had he gotten past Emma’s cuffs, he would have faced a fireball.” She giggled at Snow’s disappointed look. “Oh, don’t bother. Besides, Emma was right. She had, incidentally, put Regina on house arrest. It’s not like she could have been mayor anymore – although I remember a lot of consulting needed to be done to run this crazy town – and it gave her and Henry more time together. The kid needed a lot of reverse therapy, but we managed to patch things up. Perks of having the kid with the heart of the truest believer as a son. He knew there was good in Regina, _eventually,_ and she did what she did for a reason.”

Snow frowned. She seemed to doubt the hybrid’s words. “Care to enlighten me?”

Emmalina shrugged. “She wanted her happy ending, simple as that. She got it, so the curse didn’t need to exist anymore – both couldn’t exist at the same time anyway, if every time we kissed would’ve broken the curse all over again. She’s a powerful witch, and Emma’s the savior, and we called the purest truce you could think of. Not much more to it.”

“No! I mean the curse! You said she had her ‘reasons’? You did it to torture me! To get back at me! _Don’t lie_!” She shook a little in her chair, struggling to break the invisible bonds.

“Not everything’s about you, Mary Margaret. Sometimes, it’s about _me._ Regina really didn’t want you to have your happy ending, true. But she mainly wanted to have what she’s always wanted. Happiness. Incidentally, your destruction was what she thought that happiness entailed. But, goals changed. She wanted you to be apart from your true love, because she didn’t have one of her own. She didn’t even know that Emma was your daughter. She had a panic attack when she put that together, but when Emma reminded her that True Love’s kiss breaking a curse couldn’t work as a deception, she calmed. You have no idea how much she wanted to rub our relationship in your face.”

She tilted her head curiously. “Though I suppose that’s why I’m in front of you, telling you our relationship right now. It gives a small part of me some satisfaction to know that your daughter has been taken away from you, and that you can never see her again.”

Snow looked horrified, as Emmalina kept a straight face, flawless and unblinking. “So… you mean to tell me that… there’s no – ”

” – Counter-Spell? Cure? Antidote?” She looked amused. “Silly Snow White! That implies it’s a curse. It’s not a curse, nor is it a poison. This bonding is the cure. I’m the result of _True Love_. Would you call your marriage to Charming, or giving life to Emma, a _curse_? This is so many steps above from that, you should find it _hilarious_.” She smirked devilishly. “Though, tit for tat. You’ll never see the Evil Queen again, either. Problem with that is, you’re looking at the most powerful being in existence right now. Powerful light magic and powerful dark magic becoming one. Stronger than the Dark One, a thousand combined. I mean, together, we were pretty unstoppable as it was, but together like this?”

“Wait.” Snow was hesitant to ask her next question, hearing the casual way she mentioned how much more powerful she was than the Dark One. “What happened to Rumplestiltskin?”

“I released the darkness. The Dark One essence is no more. Unfortunately, he’s lived a very long time, and his age immediately caught up with him until he was a pile of dust. Yeah,” she chuckled, “You can believe Belle was _not_ happy about that.”

Snow honestly didn’t know how to feel about that. The Dark One was gone? Gold was dead?

“Anyway,” she continued, unimpeded, “Regina was on house arrest, spending time with her son and Emma, and Henry was the only other person we told about us. If the truest believer needed time to process it, we felt it was best to wait. We eventually told Ruby, since she was delivering food to the Mansion on occasion. Oh! That reminds me.” Quickly pulling out her phone, she pressed a couple of buttons and pressed it to her ear. “Rubes? Hey, It’s me.” Her voice had changed into Emma’s, and Snow needed to only close her eyes to visualize her daughter in front of her, instead of this oddly familiar, enchantingly terrifying stranger. “Listen, I’ll tell you everything later, but right now, Gold is gone, as in _gone_ , and Belle might need a friend. You wouldn’t happen to know her favorite food, would you? Of course you would. Well, make a personal delivery, wear your red dress, the one with the… yeah, that, and pick up a few roses. I’m sure her father would give you a free dozen once he gets the news… oh, and Ruby? Don’t fuck this up like you did with Mom.” Only hearing an indignant squawk on the other end, she hung up her phone and pocketed it. She returned her attention to the stunned brunette. “Where were we?”

“I… I, uhh…”

“What? Oh, that? Well, Belle seems to have a thing for people with a darker side. And, letting that cat out of the bag, Ruby’s interested.” She shrugged. “I guess you wouldn’t know that. You seem to be more protective of the big picture than your friends’ little problems. And you wonder why Regina took your throne.”

Snow made a noise of protest, but didn’t really follow up on it, still stuck on the possibility that her best friend might have been in love with her.

“So Emma had all but moved in after that curse break, and Regina was slowly starting to appeal to her softer side. Every night we tucked in Henry, Emma reading from the Storybook, Regina telling him her side. Oh – another note.” She summoned her notebook and quill, and scribbled something else. “I need to have a talk with that Author…”

“Author? Who?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She rested the book on the arm of her throne. “Emma was the sheriff deputy for like, three days before Graham left Storybrooke. Turns out Regina gave him his heart and banished him when he couldn’t do the one job he had – making sure no one left Storybrooke, and to report them if he couldn’t stop them. He did neither when a ten-year-old did it, so the job went to Emma. We just told you all that the Sheriff had resigned, and let you guys fill in the blanks. The Mayor and Sheriff, if you recall, made a spectacular team together. A Dark Queen and her White Knight. I’m sure all of you were suspicious. But you wouldn’t have believed it if we told you. We worked well, and played better. I am honestly surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Well, I’m _sorry,_ Emma. I was a bit preoccupied on finding _us_ a way home.”

She shrugged. “Emma liked it here, but you didn’t bother to ask. You were so busy trying to hook her back up with Neil, you forgot to ask her how she felt about being transported back to the dark ages in the first place. Well, dark for her. You forget she grew up in New York, so having to face a troll was a very foreign experience for her. You were having the time of your life, weren’t you? Reuniting with friends, with your cute little bow and arrow. All Emma knew was the sweet little school teacher. She was a pretty good friend.” She smiled fondly, as if recalling someone who _wasn’t_ in front of her. “Of course, you were Henry’s favorite teacher before the curse. Then you started teaching the kids how to shoot arrows, and his value for you shot up. Pardon the pun.” She crossed her arms. “Did you even get any parents to sign off on something so absurdly dangerous?”

“…Everyone signed off on it, sweetie.”

She gave off a tired sigh. “Of course. Snow White teaching defense lessons is something one would _pay_ for. This whole town is so backwards.”

“You really hate the Enchanted Forest that much?”

“What Emma’s seen of it, she hates it, and Regina’s not really itching to go back, either. The second Emma arrived, one of your friends was killed by Regina’s mother, who did _not_ approve of her relationship with Emma, by the way. Not that Emma wanted her blessing. She was seconds away from killing the bitch herself.” She seemed to remember something. “You made Regina kill her own mother! Remember that? That was fucked up, even for you.”

Tears came to the teacher’s eyes, not really understanding the woman’s personal attack on her from all sides. “That’s not fair, Emma! She was trying to kill Blue!”

“Yeah, God forbid if anything happens to Blue!” She chuckled to herself, and she could practically hear Regina’s mocking tone in her candor. “The only reason Emma didn’t kill Cora was because of Regina’s wishes. Hell, the fact that _Blue_ was her target was an unexpected bonus. But making Regina do the deed herself? You wonder why Emma didn’t talk to you for almost a year afterwards. Hell, it was Regina who talked her into going back to your apartment. Fair’s fair, seeing as how it was Cora that killed _your_ mom.”

“She WHAT?!”

“Oh. I guess you didn’t know that.” She drank a sip of coffee from a cup that Mary Margaret swore wasn’t there before. “It’s not just the memories of Emma and Regina in here. I can call upon Rumple’s, if I need it. Being the new Dark One allows me to have visions and buried away memories, too.”

“Wh – **WHAT**?”

“Yep,” she muttered almost apologetically, stirring her finger in the steaming mug. “Sorry to tell you that your little deal with the devil didn’t work. Maleficent told us everything.” She didn’t look particularly sorry, and neither did the horrified looking woman in front of her – _yet._ “She thought it was hilariously ironic that the savior fell in love with the Evil Queen. She’s living with her daughter, by the way. Not that you care, but there it is. Emma and Lily – you know, the girl you poisoned – they kept in touch after Emma found her again. I find it incredible that you think your heart is still so _pure._ So many deals you’ve made and sacrifices for the sake of _family_ , and your precious subjects, that you think your heart’s still in the right place. You took away a part of _me_ because of your fear of – what? My potential for… darkness?” The steam blackened into smoke, pouring out of the cup and billowing onto the floor. “How did that turn out?”

Snow whimpered at the sight, watching a dark fog swirling on her carpet. “Emma… baby…”

“I’m not Emma, and I’m certainly not your baby. You’re thirty-three years too late for that, _mom_. You abandoned _two_ babies in the woods, in a foreign realm, and you didn’t even think about Lily’s fate until you saw Maleficent again. Who does that? Did the fucking fairies tell you to do it?”

“No, I swear I… fairies? What do you have against the fairies?”

She rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk about _them_ later.” Dropping her coffee mug into the fog, the black smoke dispersed, leaving nothing behind. “But right now, I want to talk about _Neverland_.”

“Emma…lina, please. I can’t move. I’m so sorry you feel the way you feel, but everything I did, I did it for you! I tried to make you the best person you could be. I did it because _I love you_!”

“I know!” she exclaimed, with an exaggerated enthusiasm. “And it’s really weird, what people would do for their kid, _to_ their kid, under such mis-guidance. I mean, Regina admits that she had been a monster, but she’s clearly what her mother and Rumple made her. That’s her excuse. Rumple’s a coward and Cora didn’t have a heart. That’s theirs.” She tilted her head. “You sound exactly like _them._ What’s your excuse?”

“Emma! That’s – What do you _want_ from me?” Snow blubbered, confused and afraid, and a slight bit defensive of the accusations thrown at her that her daughter should have known nothing about. “What is all this for? As much as I hate to admit it, we wouldn’t be here if I didn’t do what I did. It was the only way!”

“Perhaps,” Emmalina shrugged, “perhaps not. But after Henry got kidnapped, and we went to Neverland, where were you?”

“I was in Neverland! With _you!”_

“No. No you weren’t – not truly. Emma was almost as good as Regina with her magic, and you never even _noticed_. Emma wasn’t trying too hard to hide her magic from you, but you barely ever glanced her way. You were too busy looking at Charming and Neal, working together, imagining a big ol’ happy family.” She grimaced. “I don’t know what percentage of me is trying not to vomit at the thought. Regina and Emma almost killed him on the spot. He _did_ abandon Emma and her unborn son in prison, so it was a natural response. And naturally, you completely understood and respected him for his ‘sacrifice’ for the greater cause, so you named your first-born son after him.” She sighed deeply, looking down at the trapped teacher. “What am I gonna do with you? You just keep making bad decisions, over and over again. Hell, you remind me of Lily, and we both know her excuse. You didn’t even consult me on whether or not you were going to name my brother-slash-step-grandson after Emma’s ex.” She stood up, hands behind her back, and the throne disappeared behind her. “That’s like me naming my kid fucking Frankenstein.”

“B-but I thought you liked the name Neil! You never said anything about it!”

“Anything’s better than your other choice. Leopold? Firstly, you have to realize that we’re in the twenty-first century. ‘Leopold’ isn’t going to cut it. Secondly, naming your kid after a rapist was unacceptable – ”

She waved a dismissive hand, and Snow White was silenced before she could even open her mouth. “Not a word. Not a _single fucking word_ about that cradle robber. It’s bad enough that I have memories of being _assaulted_ by _my own goddamn grandfather_ , but if I hear a word of protest about what you _thought_ you knew, we’re cutting this party short.”

Emmalina sighed to herself, knowing the strife she was causing her mother, step-daughter, and former friend. In the middle of a celebration, no less. “You know what? I think we’ll do just that. Look, I have a few friends to catch up with, so I’ll leave you to your thoughts, and we’ll pick this up later. A part of me can’t stand you, and a part of me remembers you as an angel who couldn’t be capable of such things. If you think you know who hates you and who misses you, think again.”

Without preamble, she swirled away in a cloud of white smoke, leaving Snow White alone with her thoughts. And her mobility.

She fell out of her chair to her knees and let out a cry, lamenting the loss of her daughter, and the choices she made thus far.

What had she done? What had _they_ done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Next Chapter](http://rihaansfics.com/s/fanfic/beauty/): Belle and Ruby help Emmalina discover more about what she's become, and instead find what should've been.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated. And constructive praise. Please Review!


	3. Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Red gets some sage advice. Emma and Regina prepare to dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma, AtomicStryker, and mxwn. Thank you so much for your support. Another thank you to Ship_Wrecked for your review, and to RonisGirlSQ for kudos!

_“Too much?”_

_“Did you have to tell her about Leopold?”_

_“If you weren’t going to tell her, then I had to. It’d be wrong not to, and I couldn’t risk any future children to be named after him. He deserves to be forgotten.”_

_“Emma… it was the time back then. It was expected.”_

_“In a time where barbarism was expected, that doesn’t make it forgivable. Holding a grudge is something we both have in common, I guess.”_

_Cinnamon eyes gazed tenderly upon green orbs. “My white knight.”_

_“Just doing my job, Madam Mayor.” She grinned, leaning forward to kiss her queen._

Emmalina felt a wave of ecstasy wash over her, pausing in her reading, and she bit her lip to suppress her euphoria. She shuddered in her seat.

She was thankful this didn’t happen when she was sitting in front of Mary Margaret. She didn’t think she would live it down.

Doing it in front of Snow’s former best friend, however, wasn’t much better.

“Did… did you just, um – ” Ruby leaned over, whispering the last word, and Emmalina laughed out loud. Belle, on her other side, despite the last twenty-four hours, covered her mouth to suppress her giggle.

“Kinda?” She didn’t know what it was exactly, but she knew she loved it. “I guess it’s taking a while for the full process of our binding.”

“What does it feel like?” Ruby turned in her chair, facing her new-ish friend. “I mean, do you feel them both? Can you recognize yourself as two people, stuck inside there?”

“You make it sound like we’re trapped,” Emmalina grimaced, before smirking. She couldn’t blame her friend for interpreting it that way; she wasn’t sure exactly what she was, either. “Imagine… love. As a being. Imagine holding it in your hands and embracing it. Dancing in the eternal moonlight, but your feet are never tired. Really, it’s more like floating. Just twirling weightless, no worries, nothing but you and what you’ve always imagined to be your other half. Just… _being_ , y’know?” She shook her head, letting out a little laugh. “Ah, I can’t really describe it. I’ve just… I’ve never felt happier. I feel complete.”

Ruby bit her lip, glancing at her other best friend. “You know, I think I can see what you’re getting at. It’s a tale as old as time, really.”

The librarian, unaware of the wolf’s eyes, sighed restlessly, her head falling forward into the open book.

Emmalina gave Ruby a meaningful look. “Well?”

The brunette only shook her head, looking back to her own book.

The Storybrooke library, an information trove on all kinds of spells and rituals and potions – the safe ones, not locked in a certain vault in the cemetery – was the meetup point for the trio, back when they were a foursome. It was an appropriate place to meet, as they all had questions about Emma and Regina’s… love bond.

Especially Emma and Regina.

“You couldn’t find any details about this in your vault?” Red inquired, turning a page.

The ebony-haired witch only shrugged. “I don’t have many books. Most of them I donated to the library, after the curse.” Donated was a strong word; Emma recommended that Regina surrender her safer tomes and scrolls, as a sign of good will, or at the very least, denouncing her old ways. She _was_ , so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice. Some very intricate tracking spells later, and a promise to Belle that she would do the same for the rest of the books in the library, a generous ‘surrender’ was made towards the clock tower library.

Regina considered it a personal victory when she began checking out some of those books for their adventures years later, and no one protested.

She noticed the look Red was giving her. “What?”

She smirked. “I just can’t imagine Regina shrugging. Like, the physical act of shrugging. I mean, I’ve seen her shrug people away, but there’s usually some aristocratic finesse to it.”

Emmalina raised an eyebrow, before clearing her throat. “Are you implying, Miss Lucas,” she began, the familiar voice of the Mayor springing forth, “that Miss Swan’s inclusion of our bond is causing our collective IQ to decline?”

Ruby grinned wolfishly. “You said it, not me.”

“I thought we were friends, Rubes.” It was Emma speaking this time, and she shot her the same pout, her big green eyes just as effective in their innocence. “I try to find your happy ending and hook you up, and this is how you treat me?”

“Hm?” Belle finally looked up from her book, peeling the page off her cheek. “Sorry, what?”

“While you’re awake, Aurora,” Emmalina transitioned without pause. “Could you check some of the fiction, as well? Some books might have gotten lost in the shuffle, pre-curse.”

The girl tiredly nodded, but it was Red who stood from the table. “You sit tight; I’ll get it.” She smiled widely, smoothing out her dress, before sauntering off towards the shelves.

“What an odd choice to be wearing that, in the middle of the day,” Belle commented, curious eyes roaming the strapless dress. She turned to Emmalina, who looked quite amused. “Is she late for a date or something?”

“No, she wore it because she thought it would cheer you up. What with me killing Gold and all.”

She didn’t respond, fidgeting with the page between her fingers.

“If it’s any consolation, I _am_ sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She finally spoke, sighing to herself. “Rumple… He’s found his peace. What he’s always wanted. He’s with his son, somewhere. I imagine.”

She reached out and touched the girl’s hand. “Still, I know your relationship with him was… complicated. Trust me, I understand. But I don’t think he was right for you, Lacey. I think… I think that whatever I do, it’s my job and destiny to bring about _everyone’s_ happy endings. Removing his darkness was something that needed to be done, and if doing that even _remotely_ ruined your happy ending, it would have sparked some crazy Savior instinct inside me, that I wouldn’t be able to ignore. I know you don’t want to hear this from me, but I think I’m right. He wanted to be free. That was his happy ending. Yours… I think yours is here, in the mortal realm, waiting for you to let her in.” She gave the brunette’s hand a squeeze. “Wearing the dress that _you_ couldn’t look away from at the last Mayoral Ball.”

Lacey’s eyes flickered to said dress, the wearer behind one of the cases, reaching high to pull from the top shelf. “Ruby wore that for me?”

“She thought it would cheer you up,” she tried to explain again, omitting that it was her own idea. “And you deserve, at the very least, a reprieve. You’re helping me, and you really don’t have to.”

“I want to.” The brunette shuffled her hand away from Emmalina’s, before patting her friend’s arm. “I know you didn’t mean to. And you’re the Dark One, now. You need all the friends you can get.”

“I appreciate your kindness, Belle. But I don’t think the darkness will consume me.” She rolled her eyes at Belle’s skeptical look. “I’m not green yet. That helps. The darkness magnifies what you already are; that’s the secret. Believe it or not, before I was the Dark One, I was the Savior and an Evil Queen. Bringer of Happy Endings, and Happier Beginnings. And I know a thing or two about darkness, and I know when it takes over. I was also a damn good leader. If anything’s been amplified by the darkness, it’s the qualities and strengths I already have.”

“I guess that includes ego,” Belle muttered, but her smile took the sting out of her words. “But could you answer me something?” At Emmalina’s nod, she continued. “How did you two manage to get through to each other? I mean, if Emma could see through Regina’s… past, and her aggressive nature…”

The ebony-haired witch chuckled. “That’s a creative way of saying that she was a vindictive tyrant. Wanna know a secret? Something that neither Regina nor Emma ever really figured out, or really ever believed until this fusion happened?”

Belle raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth curving downwards in a curious frown. “I don’t think I’m ready to know.”

“It went two ways. Emma needed an adjustment period when Regina told her of her past. It didn’t help that they were both accusing our son of being mentally ill. Regina went through a similar, if a more vitriolic moment when she found out that Emma was a ‘Charming’. Could you believe that Emma was the more understanding of the two?”

“Actually…”

“Right; don’t answer that.” She leaned on her fist, her golden silk gloves smooth against her chin. “What I’m saying is, they knew the worst about each other. They didn’t ignore it, they didn’t ‘see through’ it. They embraced it. Emma knew there was good in Regina, just like you saw in Rumple… but Emma saw the bad, too. She didn’t try to cure it, she let Regina see reason. What Regina tried to do, to anyone, wasn’t Emma’s business. It was a system that worked for them. Like I said, Emma was the more forgiving, and patient, of the two. You see the good in everyone, Belle, but you need to see the flaws in order to truly know _them._ Emma saw that in her. Emma saw the heinous things she did, and _why_ she did it. She saw a frightened woman who had everything taken away from her, and returned the favor. She saw someone who was willing to do whatever she needed to do to survive, because everyone was an enemy, love is a weakness, and if there was ever happiness out there for her, there was always going to be someone to take it away.

“On the other side of the coin, Regina loved Emma. She did something that Rumple just couldn’t do, and let go of her anger. Fear and Power was his greatest deterrent and motivation. Everyone’s the hero in their own story, right? He wanted to be a hero to his son. And he did whatever he had to do, to get his son back. And when his son died, he clung to his power, because it was the only thing he had left. And even if he had you… well, his power was guaranteed. Everyone he loves, goes away eventually. His wife, his son, Cora…

“His entire power was based on darkness. If he wasn’t strong enough to overcome it, he’d never truly control it. Regina had a similar problem. Magic comes at a price. For Rumple, it was his sanity. For Regina it was her… innocence.”

Emmalina took a deep breath. “For lack of a better word. Wow. That was uncomfortable to admit.”

Belle worried at her bottom lip, anxiously waiting for her friend to gather herself.

Finally, she ran a hand through her onyx hair, her blonde streaks glimmering brilliantly. “Emma loved Regina to the point where she didn’t care what she had done before. She understood her, and why she did _most_ of what she did. Some of what she did was inexcusable, but she was hopeful that Regina would change. And that’s where our relationship differed from yours. Emma never asked Regina to change. She asked her to see reason. Whenever Regina wanted to kill someone – Snow, Jefferson, Zelena, those insufferable nuns and dwarves – Emma explained why she shouldn’t. But she’d support her all the same. Because Regina did have a capacity for love – she loved this town. It was a possession to her, but she loved it because it was hers. She loved her son. And she loved Emma. Unlike the ‘good’ guys, if she had the chance to eliminate a threat, she’d take it. Remember King Arthur? Peter Pan? Hook? The only jail for them is where Hades is the warren.” She frowned. “Gotta add him to my list.”

Lacey put the pieces together. “So you’re saying that the Evil Queen stopped being Evil because…”

“Because she didn’t want Emma to leave her. And Emma didn’t want her to choose, because she wasn’t sure if she would win.” She turned back to her book. “You tried to be a cure to his sickness. Problem is, he didn’t think he was sick at all. The Dark One is all he knows; the only time in his life he thought he wasn’t being a coward. Regina remembers her life before the Evil Queen, and she missed it. Emma reminded her of a time before that, only better. Regina would take it back in a heartbeat. Rumple would never give up the power he had. Not even for love. Emma hoped she would change. Regina wanted to. For each other.” She tilted her head over to the bookshelves. _“_ She _,_ too, would give up everything for a chance at love. To bring it back around to the topic at hand.”

Belle’s eyes were downcast, and Emmalina wasn’t sure if she was back to reading her book or deep in thought. Perhaps a bit of both. She gave the girl a lot to think about, and perhaps she was ready for some self-blaming, which is where Red would come in and turn on the charm if she just _hurried her ass up already_.

“You know, I wasn’t staring at her dress because I loved it.” At the skeptical look, she quickly clarified. “There’s nothing wrong with the dress, I just… it might have been a bit _much_.”

“ _What?_ “

Lacey sputtered, seeing Ruby quickly turn the bookshelf to stalk towards them. Emmalina waved her over. “Hey! We were just talking about you!”

Her eyes were focused on the stuttering bookworm. “Yeah, I heard everything. So, please, continue,” she waved her hand in an onward motion, jerky in her movements. “Say it. ‘Not _s_ _lutty_ enough.’ That’s what you were going for, right? ‘A bit on the south side of _whorish_?'”

“Ruby, you _know_ I wouldn’t – “

“Well, Not to my face, apparently – “

“Ruby!” She screamed, her cheeks pink. “I wasn’t calling you a _whore!”_

“… You two realize we’re in a library, right?”

They both turned their glare on her, and she shrugged. “I mean, it’s after hours, but we’re still on sacred ground. Just sayin’.”

“Ruby,” Belle tried again, standing up and facing her friend properly, “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant it seemed excessive. Desperate.”

“You know what’s worse than hearing that your dress wasn’t slutty enough? Desperately slutty!”

Belle narrowed her eyes. “Call it what you want, but don’t put words in my mouth. When I see you, I usually see someone so confident and self-assured and… that dress, the makeup, whatever you tried to do that night, or even now, it wasn’t _you.”_

Ruby crossed her arms, her red-painted lips in an adorable pout. “I was trying something new. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

“I knew you were uncomfortable. I knew you were embarrassed, like someone forced you to put that thing on. I can read you like a book, Red. What I didn’t know was who you were trying to impress to such an extent that night.” She began, moving around the table to get a better look at the extravagant-looking poof of garment. “That gown is far from _you,_ Ruby. It’s downright chaste. It was so… It looked like you were hiding yourself in that thing. Why would you wear such a gown?”

The wolf sputtered, lost for words.

“Belle,” Emmalina cleared her throat. “She’s dressed like you.”

She furrowed her brows and looked closer at the dress. “I think I have something similar, but…”

“Sorry, let me clarify. She’s dressed like Emma Watson.”

Belle looked helplessly confused.

“Seriously?” Red put her hands on her hips, wincing at the effects of her tightened corset. “You didn’t even see the movie about _you_?”

She frowned. “There’s a movie about me?”

“Two!” She paused. “Or more. And a TV show. But people think about two.”

“And you’re dressed as me? Or this Emma girl?”

“YES!”

“Oh. I see.” She bit her lip, leaning against the table. “So… you wore it to get my attention? You really do – “

“ _Yes_.” Red chuckled nervously. “Whatever you’re gonna say next, yes.” She tugged at her strapless gown. “I hate this dress. It’s not letting me breathe. Not letting me panic properly.”

Belle pushed off the table and approached her friend, biting her lip. “So, are you going to take that silly thing off?”

“Well, I don’t see any point of wearing it now.”

“… Need any help?”

Emmalina heard Ruby’s breath catch, and she grinned as she turned a page. She just loved Happy Endings.

_“Do you remember what Lacey was like?” Emma pondered, her arms wrapped around Regina’s back, her feet gliding through the still night. “Cursed Lacey?”_

_“Of course,” she muttered, her head under Emma’s chin. She was always surprised at how much taller the blonde was, in the rare times she didn’t wear platforms or heels. Now, she never had to wear them again. “Barmaid. Far cry from a Librarian.”_

_“Mmhmm. She reminds me of you, sorta.”_

_“Lacey? Not Belle?”_

_“I guess a mix of both. I could totally picture you as a bar owner.”_

_“I suppose I know my way around a wine cellar, Emma. But I’m more likely to throw fire at a patron than a beer.”_

_“What about a Fireball Whiskey?”_

_“I’d never waste whiskey on someone’s head. But you seem to know your fair share of drinks, Miss Swan.”_

_“Most of my bounties tended to stay there. But I picture your bar a little classier than the seedy shacks I’ve perched on.”_

_“I would hope you not arrest someone at my bar. Unlike the Rabbit Hole, I don’t want a reputation for fights.”_

_“Please, ‘Gina, someone trying to start a fight at_ your _bar? ‘Hey, bartender! A death wish, please?'”_

_“Why would I attack my own patrons? Wouldn’t I have a sheriff for that?”_

_“I wouldn’t be your personal sheriff. There are other bars, you know, and you can’t be Mayor and own a saloon. I think.”_

_She pulled back and grinned, teeth and all, and even though they were floating together, Emma forgot how to move her feet for a second. “Oh, my dear, politically unaware Sheriff. I’m sure we can work out an arrangement.”_

_The blonde licked her dry lips. “I’m sure we can make a few under the table deals… or under the bar. I know how to serve up a mean Blow Job, Madam Bartender.”_

_Regina laughed, her melodic voice echoing through the space of their imagination. “You’re incorrigible, Emma.”_

_“Please, ma’am. Let’s keep it professional.” She kissed her temple. “That’s Sheriff Swan to you.”_

_“My apologies, Sheriff. Your bar maiden is grateful for your community service.” She placed her hands on Emma’s shoulders. “Is that it? I can make a drink? How else do I remind you of Lacey?”_

_“Who?” she giggled as Regina poked her in the neck. “Sorry. Just thinking about you in leather, wearing a nice choker, jumping into bar brawls. Like, super-kicking a brute and swinging a baseball bat – “_

_“Dear, you’re drooling.”_

_“Okay, okay. Lacey was so unrestricted and wild. Kind of on the crazy side.”_

_“Choose your next words carefully, Emma.”_

_“… She listened to her heart. However manufactured her memories were, she decided for once to release her inner beast. I still remember when Ruby and Lacey met. It was practically Bonnie and Clyde.”_

_“It_ was _, dear. You just didn’t try to shoot them.”_

_“They didn’t do anything too bad. Kinda helpful. I mean, they fucked with the nuns a lot; that was fun.”_

_“You have such an erudite way with your words.”_

_“Can’t pull that with me, missy. I know what you know, now. Lacey was smart, too. She used her brain and followed her heart. That’s how she reminds me of you.”_

_“And that’s it? I don’t see how – “_

_A familiar music began to play, echoing. Their limitless space began to brighten. Pillars burst high from the floor that wasn’t there before, meeting at the ceiling. “I got this scene from a movie,” Emma whispered, pulling away to tie her hair into a ponytail. When she offered her hand again, she wore white gloves. “Would you care to dance, my lady?”_

_Regina paused, seeing the black gloves that reached her elbows. She looked down at the familiar ball gown, only a deep purple. She looked back at Emma, looking as regal as ever, smoothing down the cravat beneath her blue blazer with gold trim._

_Regina had never been a fan of formal events and dancing, in any capacity; it was just another thing to remind her of Cora. Her dances with Emma at the Mayoral Ball were quite a refreshing take on their harmony, but she didn’t think Emma enjoyed it as much as she did._

_“Footwork,” Emma easily explained, unprompted. “You move like a freakin’ goddess. I couldn’t catch up. Now, I can.” She offered her hand again._

_Regina took it. “You continue to amaze me, my dear Emma.”_

_The sheriff grinned, her green eyes bright. “You continue to inspire me, Regina.”_

_A chandelier lowered as they twirled and glided across the ballroom, waltzing to the music on the marble floor. Regina pressed her head to Emma’s breast once again, listening to the faint heartbeat, feeling it in sync with her own. She had always felt safe in those strong arms, even when she didn’t want to admit it._

_“Emma?”_

_“Yes, my queen?”_

_“…You gave Ruby the idea to wear the dress, didn’t you?”_

_“I might’ve. I would have had her dress like me now – you know, ‘Beast’ or Adam or whatever – but classic suits for women are hard to find. It still got Belle’s attention, didn’t it?”_

_She kissed the side of her neck. “Idiot.”_

_Emma nuzzled her head into Regina’s hair. “Yours.”_

_She hugged her tighter, affirming her love’s declaration. “Why did you think it would work?”_

_“Belle admires Ruby. They both have confidence issues, sometimes. Seeing Red dressed like that, I figure, would have her asking questions, and maybe have her consider how much she admired about her. She’s always known that Red was beautiful. She just needed a push to tell her that, and maybe realize that she_ wanted _to tell her.”_

 _Regina stumbled in her footing, and Emma easily held her in place. She looked up at Emma in surprise. “You_ expected _all that?”_

_“I read people. It’s kinda my job. Don’t be too surprised.” She grinned. “Belle was worried that Ruby was uncomfortable. With Gold here or not, some truths would’ve come out anyway.”_

_“I apologize, Emma.”_

_“For what?”_

_“For – for calling you an idiot?”_

_“Oh. Well, I didn’t think you meant it.”_

_“I- I didn’t! I just, I miscalculated your judgement. I’m sorry for underestimating you.”_

_There was a time when Regina would’ve argued that she should have been portrayed as the ‘beast’, in their eternal dance that was their relationship. She didn’t think she deserved such a beautiful, intelligent creature like Emma Swan._

_Tucking her fingers under her beloved’s chin, Emma gently lifted Regina’s eyes to her own. “No need to be sorry, ‘Gina. You didn’t mean it. I didn’t know it was gonna work out as well as it did. Nobody’s perfect. But you, Miss Mills, are the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever met.”_

_That time was long-forgotten, and Emma reinforced that every single day they were together. “And you, Miss Swan, give me far too much credit. And you make me love you all the more, for it.”_

_The Savior held her Queen in her arms as they kissed, their world fading around them._

_There were no regrets; only hope for their future as a single being._

_They would never be alone again._

“Damn, I’m great,” Emmalina sighed happily to herself, feeling the last piece of herself come whole.

Belle and Red separated, their faces flushed, looking over to their friend. The taller brunette chuckled nervously. “Did you two have sex in there again?”

“Oh. I said that out loud?” She gave them a wide smile, before closing her book. “You know what, ladies? I think you two deserve some time to yourselves.”

Belle looked concerned. “But we haven’t learned anything about your bond.”

“I wanted answers. And now, I think I have all the answers I need. I’ll catch up to you lovebirds later. My work isn’t done.” She steepled her fingers. “Apparently, I’m late for a family reunion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a jump here. at https://a.rihaansfics.com, I'm starting a fanfic community. So if you want to be one of the first to join, come on and join! In beta mode.
> 
> Please Review! Tell me what you think of the story so far!


	4. Cinnamon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma faces one of the greatest challenges of her life, while Regina tries to swallow an undeniable truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alexander S, Ranma, AtomicStryker, and mxwn - Thank you for your support.

“Henry, _please_ , you can tell me. I’m your grandmother.”

Henry Mills crossed his arms. “Then shouldn’t you be happy for them? Why are you so upset?”

“I’m not upset, Henry. I’m concerned. Please, they won’t tell me anything.”

“They don’t tell me a lot either, you know. They don’t know much of what happened, anyway. And you _are_ upset, grandma. I can tell.”

“That’s my boy,” Emmalina whispered, watching the exchange from upstairs with a proud grin. They had taught him well.

She watched through the banister as her son stood his ground, deflecting his grandmother’s questions. Under an illusion, she hadn’t yet made herself known. Snow White was clearly desperate to find the truth, or some information, and she wanted to know how far the woman was willing to go.

“Henry, please…”

“Grandma, we don’t know much about the bond. It just happened. I didn’t ask for details, but there was an explosion in her room this morning.”

“In her room? Are you sure?”

“Positive. It woke me up, and naturally, I ran to my moms’ room. And… there she was, repairing the broken furniture.”

“Magical backlash,” Snow whispered quietly, before realizing what he had just said. “Your… your moms’ room? Regina _and_ Emma’s?”

He shrugged. “Emma never made up her bed before, and the guest room bed’s been made for three years now.”

The Queen Savior rolled her eyes when Mary Margaret shuddered. “Ew, okay. Your moms. And that’s all you know about what happened to them. They were there last night, and now this… this woman is here.”

“It’s not too impossible. True Love’s kiss breaks curses, and they’re really powerful. Wait,” he furrowed his brows, “Grandma… are you jealous?”

“ _No_!” She looked so horrified at the mere suggestion, Henry and Emmalina easily believed her. “I’m _worried_ for Emma! Aren’t you?”

“Not really. They looked happy before, and they’re pretty happy now.”

“You don’t _know_ that, Henry! This could be one giant scheme.”

“By who?” He leaned forward a little, inquisitive eyes staring a hole into her. “If it was some plot to kill them both, it backfired pretty badly. You said you were worried for Ma, but don’t be. You might not have known the truth, but I do. And they love each other. This might come out as ironic, but Mom treats Ma like a princess.”

“And your ‘mother’ hasn’t told all of us lies before? Why did you never come to me with this, Henry?”

“Because,” Emmalina finally spoke aloud before Henry could retort, “you have a terrible track record at keeping secrets about relationships.”

The pale woman looked taken aback the sudden appearance of the topic of their conversation, and her hands flexed, wishing she had brought her bow with her. “I was _ten!”_

“Henry was ten when we told him about us. Didn’t tell a soul. You seem to be failing at excuses lately.” She sauntered down the staircase. “Now that the truth is out, let me properly welcome you into the Swan-Mills home, Snow White. How can we help you? Care for round two of your incessant questioning?”

Snow pursed her lips. “Why,” she eventually muttered, “why do you sound so much like the Evil Queen?”

She paused at the bottom of the staircase. “You know, you’re the only one I hear that from. I suppose you bring out the best in me.”

Mary Margaret didn’t seem amused by the answer, all the while Henry leaned shyly against the wall of the foyer.

The regal beauty let out a wide grin and opened her arms. “C’mere, kid. I’m still your mom.”

“I know,” he whined, but it was a grin before he wrapped his arms around her. “I know, mom. But it’s still confusing. Do I call you Mom? Ma? Do we need new adoption papers? What’s my last name, now?”

She laughed. “We’ll figure it out, kid. Both our last names are made up, anyway. You can make up whatever you want.”

He stepped back and smiled at his mom. “Sure, Ma. I think I’ll stay a Mills. Maybe take Swan as a middle name?”

Snow bit her lip in frustration, showing exactly how much she liked the idea.

“You could ask, if you want,” Emmalina said easily, staring the teacher in the eyes. “I know you want to ask. It’s Henry’s decision. I’m not gung-ho about it, but maybe he could bring some desperately needed prestige to the Charming name.”

Henry made a face. “Henry Charming? I… I’ll think about it,” he quickly assured his grandmother, seeing her crestfallen face at his over-pronunciation. “I’ll have to ask Violet what she thinks.”

Emmalina tutted at her son. “She’s your girlfriend, Henry. That might be too big a commitment to go to her for.”

He raised both eyebrows. “I never saw a ring on Mom or Ma’s fingers.”

“You know that’s not fair, kid. That’s because we weren’t public,” she explained easily, suddenly frowning. “It’s unfortunate, but that’s… this is how it works. Regina was trying so hard to atone to this town, to the people. She and Emma fought wraiths, golems, trolls, and Dark Ones together. Community service, they tried to call it.”

Henry frowned at the memory. When the people had rioted over Emma’s announcement that Regina was no longer on house arrest, he doubled down on his promise to never tell anyone about their relationship. Regina had explained to both him and Emma that since she had cast the curse in the first place, anyone could easily believe that she could reverse it for her own purposes. She couldn’t, but who would side with her? Emma? They would claim that she was manipulated, especially when word of their relationship got out. Gold? Even if he told the truth, it would almost hurt Regina’s credibility to have the Dark One back her up. The nuns/fairies? Like they’d help her.

Regina was sure that for the rest of her days, she would be perceived as the Evil Queen by the majority. Nothing could change that; even if she married the Savior herself (no matter how tempting the idea was, and how interested Emma seemed at the prospect) the town would assume another curse, or love potion, or some nefarious plot device to destroy the good will that she had no actual reason to accomplish otherwise.

She wanted to make Emma proud. She couldn’t care less about earning the town’s forgiveness and respect, at the time. Then, she slowly began to crave both. She became willing to fight for her redemption.

Now, she had both. The town just didn’t know it yet, but she and Emma, they could fix _everything_.

But for now, she stood in front of her biggest skeptic, Snow White. “Perhaps we should adjourn to the sitting room. Care for an Apple Cider?”

* * *

**~Years Ago~**

Emma wrung her hands fretfully, stepping out of her yellow bug. She was halfway to the door before she slapped her forehead in frustration, before dashing back to the car.

“I’m a fucking mess,” she muttered, reaching over to grab her gift from the cup holder. She smiled to herself as she felt her heart race faster.

She didn’t think she would wake up this morning, having the courage to make peace with the Mayor of Storybrooke, the mother of her son. She might have been a bounty hunter, but she knew when certain targets and goals were out of her reach. Just the _idea_ of this seemed a price too steep.

Granted, she had never _not_ caught her target. But she was choosy. This might prove a bit too ambitious.

Henry wasn’t making this any easier for her. Despite his misconceptions about his adopted mother, he seemed more hesitant about his birth mother wanting to befriend the ‘Evil Queen’. Still, straightening her signature leather jacket, she took a deep breath, and knocked.

Wrapping her hands tightly around the offering behind her back, she waited several long seconds before Regina opened the door. Wearing a full pants suit and glasses. _Jesus Christ_. “Miss Swan? How… unexpected of you to be here. Are you here to say goodbye?”

 _And here comes the hard part._ She let out a nervous chuckle. “Ah, no. Not really.” Her very soul crumpled as she saw the aristocratic mayor’s brilliant smile deepen into a slight frown. The woman had serious insecurity issues. “I just wanted you to… uh, take this.” From behind her back, she produced a roll of sticks, tightly bound by a deep purple ribbon.

The frown deepened, and Emma could tell she was confused. “Sticks?”

“Cinnamon.” She tried to smile, awkwardly holding out the bouquet. “An olive branch. I wanted to apologize for what I said before. Henry, he just seemed so upset. I know all the signs of an abused kid, and he had none of them. I just felt I needed to ask. I’m a law enforcer, you know.” She bit her tongue. She was defending herself too hard, and she didn’t need Regina closing up on her again. “You got me apples from your tree. They were damn delicious. I thought this would compliment them well.”

Suspicious brown eyes roved over Emma slowly, and she almost shuddered under her gaze. “I see,” she drawled slowly, and Emma felt like she was about to be sent to the gallows. “…I appreciate your gift, Miss Swan. I’m sure this will make a lovely addition.”

“I bet you already have cinnamon,” she admitted as Regina gently took it from her hands, “but I didn’t know what else to get you. You’re a mayor, with a freakin’ beautiful home-grown garden, and you’re a _fantastic_ cook.”

“I am?” she raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know that?”

“Henry shared some of his leftover lasagna with me on… on the long drive here.” She didn’t want to bring it up, and she could tell the mood soured, once again. “Driving him back to you isn’t something I regret, Madam Mayor. Henry is a smart kid, kind and maybe not so thoughtful, considering he dragged me over state lines in the middle of the night, but he’s got a good heart. And… you love him. That was never in disagreement. I gave him up.”

“Yes, Miss Swan. Indeed you did.”

“And I know that if I raised him, he’d never be what he is now,” she continued quickly, skipping over the sting of the Mayor’s words. “I could barely tell you what my old apartment even looks like. My job requires a lot of my time, more time than I could ever give a kid. I’ve seen you pick him up from school. The fact that you have the time to do that and run a whole town is – ” She shook her head. “Mayor, I made the right choice. You raised him, not me. I’m a mother in name only. And if it gives you any piece of mind, here’s the proof.” She dug into her inside coat pocket, mindful of Regina’s quick glance at her braless shirt, and pulled out a small packet of neatly folded papers. Clutching it tightly in her hands, she gave a tight smile. “This is me, signing away my rights to him, _again_. I was under duress, before. That could have been argued in court. This is me, sane and conscious, in the now. I love Henry, but I don’t know him; you do. I hope, in some capacity, that we can work together, but I can tell you’re a woman who likes her control. So here you go. The original, ten-year-old version and the revised version.”

Instead of the bright smile that she expected, or at least any signs of a secretive look of relief, she saw utter bewilderment on the woman’s face. “Is… is this okay?” She hadn’t, up to this point, seen the Mayor so speechless, and she was sure this was a rare moment for her. Wordlessly, Emma unfolded the paper and presented it to the brunette, who still – rather limply – held the cinnamon sticks at her side.

“I…” she started, her normally composed figure wobbling at its core. She brought up her free hand, not to take the legal papers, but to tuck her shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “Emma, what is this?”

She hid her smile, knowing that she was _finally_ getting to her. “Like I said; an olive branch.”

Several moments passed. For what seemed like minutes, the two women looked at each other, Emma’s eyes innocent and unassuming, Regina’s calculating and, to Emma, lost.

Finally, Regina spoke. “Could I interest you in some homemade cider? With cinnamon, apparently?”

Emma couldn’t contain her grin. “I’d be delighted, Madam Mayor.”

“Please. Call me Regina.”

* * *

**~Present~**

Snow White gripped her mug to herself as the story was regaled to her, shaking her head in disbelief. “This is too much.”

Emmalina paused her story there, not entirely sure that her _mother_ would want to hear what happened next. Then again, she relished the thought of having her _step-daughter_ know how oblivious she was to it all.

Henry pat Snow’s shoulder in sympathy, before tilting his head curiously. “Where’s Grandpa?”

“He’s at the station. Since the Sheriff didn’t show up for work.”

“Hey, I’m still doing my job! I _killed_ the Dark One today. Sorry if I didn’t clock up my hours, but I think my employer noticed.”

“… You keep switching back and forth. I don’t know who you want me to talk to. You hate it when I call you Emma, but you sound so much like her – sometimes.”

“You’re more comfortable around Emma. Regina’s never in quite the mood to talk to you, and that was before she found out about the things you’ve done. Emma tends to forgive your many flaws and mistakes. We’re both in here, and we share the same mind, Snow. The occasional opinion may come one-sided, but we tend to agree on a lot of things. If we were too different, or out of sync with each other, _this_ ,” she pointed at her stoic face, “wouldn’t have happened.”

“Grandma,” Henry suddenly recalled, “why did you act that way when I asked if you were jealous?”

“What way?”

“Disgusted. Appalled. Fucking horrified.” Emmalina ticked them off, amused. “Pick one.”

“I…” she cleared her throat, before folding her hands demurely in her lap. “I wasn’t disgusted. I was… confused. I just don’t think I would want to lose my identity like that.”

“Just because I’ve got an identity crisis, doesn’t mean I don’t have an identity. We know who we are, and we’ve fully embraced it. You and Charming may like your space, but I find it pointless.”

“Em–! Regi–! _Agh_!” She held her head, feeling her nerves pulse. “Boundaries are important in any relationship. Soon enough, you’re going to feel trapped in there.”

“You’ve literally only said my name once,” she gently pointed out, “and I don’t feel like it’s that hard to remember. And yeah, boundaries are important. Finding a healthy balance of companionship, while worrying about suffocating your partner; that’s love.”

Snow nodded satisfactorily, as if teaching a lesson to one of her students. “Exactly.”

“Complete harmony. That’s how that works. It’s how the bond happened. We didn’t want to be apart. Never again. We got to rely on each other like water, like _air_. Living this secret life together may have accelerated the process, but we simply found that when we’re apart, life sucked a little bit more. We… we spent so much of our lives alone – _imprisoned_ in our own way. I can’t complain about this, nor could I ever. It’s what we’ve wanted for a while. Marriage is a promise of a lifetime together. This is… beyond that. It’s _true_ love.”

The pale woman pursed her lips, and looked away. Henry smiled wistfully, and Emmalina glowed at his joyous grin. “I’m proud of you, Ma. Mom. Moms.”

“You can call me Emmalina, if you wish. Someone has to. But I need you to spend a few days at your grandparents’, could you do that for me? I have a shopping list of things to get to, and I should be done by Wednesday-ish. When I come back, I’m finally teaching you to ride a horse.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” She laughed as he rushed in for another hug.

“I thought you might like it. And I’ll tell you everything when I get back. I think we’ve both had enough secrets for a minute, right?” She looked pointedly at Snow White, who flinched under her icy gaze. “I need to meet up with a friend, to undo an old curse.”

* * *

**~Years Ago, Again (continued)~**

Emma gasped as Regina slammed her back to the wall, scattering her Release of Custody papers. “Regina – “

“ _Hush._ ” She gazed into her green eyes and Emma swore that she looked… scared? “Emma, what the hell is this? This isn’t an olive branch, it’s surrender. Why?”

“I never wanted to fight you, Regina. That was always the furthest from… oh, boy, I fucked this up. I just wanted another chance. I wanted another chance, to… to ask you out.” She suddenly shifted to being casual about it, with Regina so close to her, smelling so much like goddamned apples she considered changing her allegiance to the kiwi.

She furrowed her brows, backing up, not quite enough room for her to move. “Why? You got what you wanted.”

“I got blind-sided.” She rolled her eyes, effortlessly pushing back the Mayor to cross her arms. “I didn’t get what I wanted. And you didn’t either. If you wanted to get rid of me, giving me the best night of my life was a terrible first step.”

“ _I wasn’t – !_ ” She abruptly stopped, and took a deep breath. “Emma, I wasn’t trying to get rid of you.”

“Don’t care. You’re not. Case closed.”

She frowned. “Emma, you have my apologies if I made you feel that way.”

Emma tilted her head, frowning minutely. “Huh. You meant it.” She chuckled at Regina’s confusion. “I’m pretty good at telling when people are bullshitting me. When you said you weren’t trying to get rid of me, that was a lie.” She shook her head as the brunette tried to deny it. “When you told me two days ago that I was welcome to Storybrooke, that was a lie. When you said showing up at your door was unexpected just now, that was a lie. You were probably watching from the time I pulled up.” Her eyes lit up. “But you _are_ sorry for trying to kick me out of town. I _wonder,_ why is that? I get it – this town isn’t used to visitors. Hell, I don’t think you’ve seen any tourists in years. It’s a little out of the way. I couldn’t direct someone here if I tried. So you’re a little rusty on your hospitality, I get it.” She grinned cheekily at Regina’s scowl. “You didn’t want me around. I get that, too. But you’re sorry for not wanting me here. I… think I can figure that part out.” She waved her hand to the papers on the ground. “You thought I was a threat to you and Henry. I’m not anymore, and I promise you I never was.” She reached up tentatively, and Regina flinched when Emma gently put her hand on her shoulder. “So, before you jump me again… as a rival or for any other reason,” her eyes sparkled in amusement. “I just wanted to tell you that I wanted to stay around for a while. I promise to stay away from Henry as long as you want, but… I do want to see you again.”

Regina worked her mouth for a few seconds, and before the words could spill, Emma leaned forward.

Perfectly manicured hands wrapped around the blonde’s tense arms, squeezing tightly, before relaxing. The normally professional woman began to sigh into the uninvited, and yet very much-anticipated, kiss.

It had been on both their minds since – that thing they weren’t ever supposed to bring up again – happened yesterday, but it _tortured_ Regina. It was meant to be a precious memory, shared with someone who she would remember fondly, and especially, never see again. An odd chapter that would never appear in a storybook that Henry could get his hands on.

It was by the time she got back home, _late_ that night, that she realized that she didn’t particularly want Emma to leave. Before she saw the car pull up Mifflin Street, she was beginning to come to terms with the younger woman leaving; her motherhood depended on it. The curse depended on it.

When Emma pulled back, Regina blinked slowly, before staring helplessly at the beautiful blonde before her. “You… I thought you didn’t want me to ‘jump you’ again?”

“I got the question out, didn’t I? At least I was ready for it this time.”

Regina started to chuckle, a very welcome change to the nervous seriousness Emma had seen for the past few minutes. “Who the hell answers their door without a bra?”

“Someone who sees a beautiful woman in the peephole. I don’t sleep in a bra. We’re both girls, here. How was I supposed to know you would jump me? Who does _that?”_

“I wasn’t _planning_ on it!” She flushed, remembering Emma in a tank top, leaning against the door frame, her well-muscled arm hanging onto the door knob, her wild blonde bed hair, her suddenly attentive eyes when Regina entered her view, those tasty lips as they began to skew into a wicked grin at her presence…

“I honestly don’t know how I could have stopped myself.”

Emma smiled with a sort of Charm that spoke to Regina in a familiar way – a way that should have annoyed Regina, but didn’t. “So, you didn’t answer; are you free?”

She bit her lip, only absently aware that Emma was still holding her hands. “How long were you planning on staying?”

“Until that nice old lady at the diner kicks me out, but I met a teacher that needs a roommate.”

“Good.” She leaned up and pecked the blonde on the lips. “Then I will call you.”

She frowned. “I don’t want a booty-call, Regina. I want to take you out; show me the local spots. If you’re not interested, tell me now. I don’t want to mislead you.”

The Mayor rolled her eyes. “Miss Swan, your crude terms aside, I can tell your intentions today are not for another night of passion. You have… immeasurably assuaged any doubt in my mind that you are here for alternative reasons, and I’m willing to try as hard as you are.”

“You have trust issues.” She shrugged. “The last person I trusted landed me in prison, with a bun in the oven. As long as you promise not to do that to me, I think we can make this work.”

“I can’t promise anything, Miss Swan.”

“I can.” She lifted the brunette’s lightly trembling hands to kiss her knuckles. “Last time, you caught me when I was half-asleep. Next time, I won’t be so… docile. You like to be a woman in charge. That, I can’t promise will stay the same with me.” Quickly spinning them around, Regina found herself lifted high against the wall, looking down at the grinning blonde with bated breath. Her heart pounded at the intensity in the woman’s eyes, watching her suddenly grin in a feral way. “Oh? So that’s what it is, huh?” She chuckled, letting one hand go of her waist, easily keeping her in place against the wall. “It wasn’t because I was shirtless that you jumped me. I was _sleeveless_.” She flexed her arm, listening to the ever-so-subtle intake of Regina’s breath. “Interesting. So you’ll call me?”

Regina couldn’t trust herself to speak, so she merely nodded, snapping her legs around Emma’s waist.

“Unfortunately, you have to pick up Henry from school.” With only a glancing kiss, she easily pried Regina’s legs away and lowered the brunette to the floor, before stepping back. “I should go.”

With heavy breaths, she slowly began to straighten her clothes, scowling at Emma the whole time. “I won’t forget this, Emma.”

“And you said you couldn’t make promises,” she winked, simply intent to watch the normally perfectly presentable woman fluff herself back up to prim&proper mode, before leaning down to pick up the papers and the wholly forgotten cinnamon sticks, placing them on the table in the foyer.

“Wait.” She put her hand on Emma’s. “Come with me to pick up Henry.”

She bit her lip. “You sure?”

The Mayor grew a tight smile. “I think he should see us getting along, at least.”

She snorted. “I think he should see us getting along, at _most_. Seeing any more would require more therapy than he already has.”

Regina smiled, but this time, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, well… we should be going.”

She quickly understood what she said wrong. It gave her a small amount of relief that she really did seem to care about her son’s well-being, if she had any doubts before – and at this point, she didn’t. “Hey, he’ll be okay,” Emma soothed, standing straight. “He’s a Mills. From what I’ve seen, they’re pretty amazing people.”

“I’ve yet to meet a Swan I haven’t despised, either,” she muttered, smoothing down her hair. “Though I suppose, from a child born in prison, therapy might prove essential sooner or later.”

“If we could keep that bit between us, that’d be great.”

“Of course.” Collecting her purse from the kitchen island, she looked passively at Emma as the blonde opened the front door for her. “We’re going to need to talk about this.”

“Mmhmm. I know. That’s what _dates_ are for.”

“Emma – “

“Hey, I get it. You’re a celebrity in this town. I’m a tourist. People talk. I’m sure you don’t give strangers this personal a tour, but I’m ever so grateful for the hospitality.”

“ _Miss Swan_ ,” she groused, pinching the bridge of her nose, her house key half-turned in the lock. “You do not understand. This town is… we may be a tad old-fashioned to your accelerated Boston taste. We must have some tact, if you intend for this to continue.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Oh. You mean they don’t know… huh. Okay. the girl at the diner flirted with me just this morning, too. You’d be surprised how some circles have progressed. That being said, hey, I respect your privacy. This is your world. I figure that you could, at the very least, use a public friend.”

Her eyes were stuck on the gaudy-looking yellow bug parked in front of her house. “I appreciate the gesture. However, it seems to me that you might need a new car.”

“My bug? Hell no. That thing is _my_ world.”

“I take good care of my town. There isn’t a piece of litter around if you _tried_ to look.”

“You haven’t even seen the inside of it!” She complained, her smile ruining her indignant attitude as she sat in the passenger seat of the Mercedes.

“I pray that I don’t,” she smiled good-naturedly, cranking the machine to life in a beautiful purr. She looked over to Emma. “I have a very private life. I would prefer not to put myself in the spotlight.” She began to look somber, frowning as she pulled out of the driveway. “Henry sees me as some sort of heartless, Evil Queen when he gets in one of his moods. He thinks my apples are poisoned, and says I might launch fireballs at him when I’m upset. Not many children are fans of their parents at a certain age, and it could be a rebellious phase manifesting itself in his own way, but he doesn’t _trust_ me. I’m just… protective of him.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Henry doesn’t have friends his own age. He keeps telling people about the characters in his book, and which characters the other students are. The only reason he isn’t bullied is because he’s the son of the Mayor, and the principal is a dear friend. Henry’s unapproachable, to some students, and an oddity to others.”

Emma nodded sagely. “I guess he gets that from both sides of the pool. I was, ah, scrappy. Always wanted to start a fight. Always won. You may think Henry might be a bit sheltered, but I’d rather him be your little prince than my little scrapper.”

Regina winced at the usage of the word ‘prince.’ Emma noticed, but didn’t comment. “I suppose there could be more of a balance. He has a session with Doctor Hopper today. I’ll be sure to bring it up.”

“Yeah, I met him the first night here. I don’t think I like him. He seems very accommodating to all of it. He has a _Dalmatian_ named Pongo, for God’s sake.”

“…I don’t understand. Why is that accommodating?”

“Dalmatians? From the movie?”

“There’s a famous movie about Dalmatians? Is it a documentary?”

“No.” She furrowed her brows. “I thought Henry was a huge Disney fan. You have to know some of the movies by osmosis, right? 101 Dalmations? Lion King? Beauty and the Beast?”

“Henry has always been more of a comic book type. I haven’t watched many movies, myself.”

“Oh.”

That’s all she said, and the car was silent for five minutes. Regina didn’t speak, focusing on the eerily empty streets ahead of her, occasionally glancing over at Emma with a neutral expression. Emma smirked back, and Regina returned the expression after a hesitant few seconds.

Emma looked out the window, reflecting on their conversation, her smile getting curiouser.

 _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_ was, to her memory, the first movie she had ever seen. She didn’t _enjoy_ it as much, per se, but it left an imprint in her life. Adriana Caselotti was a _damn_ good singer, and for the first ever animated movie, there were some dark themes that she couldn’t even fathom would be in a modern Disney movie: An Assassin, nightmare sequences (before the pink elephants perfected the art of fear), non-consensual bathing, ‘sleeping death’ (as compared to what they called it now, a Sleeping Curse), prayer (probably the most controversial part of the movie to some) and –

Well. It was why Emma sat stoically, considering everything. _Fireballs_ were not one of the dangers that Snow White had to face. Was it?

_‘He thinks my apples are poisoned, and says I might launch fireballs at him when I’m upset._ _‘_

No. Absolutely not. It wasn’t a very action-packed feature – no fireballs, she was sure of it. So where did she get that from? His storybook? That wasn’t even in the Hans Christian Andersen version. Was there a Grimm Brothers version she wasn’t aware of? Something didn’t add up.

Emma shrugged off the unsettling feeling she had, content to figure it all out later. For the first time in years, she felt like she was wanted, and in a way, needed here. Paranoia, while it had done her good in her career choice, wasn’t going to help her here.

Well, it would have helped her with Neil… and Lily… and even Sarah, but she wasn’t going to think about that.

“That cinnamon I got you,” Emma murmured, leaning towards the driver’s seat. “I bet it would taste great on cupcakes.”

“I suppose it would,” Regina chuckled, “Might I ask where that came from?”

“My birthday was a couple of days ago.”

“Really?” She seemed surprised. “Happy belated, dear.”

“Thank you, sweetums.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do not _ever_ refer to me as ‘sweetums’. I do not have to use ‘dear’ as a term of endearment. It is also a term of friendship, or acquaintances.”

“It’s in the name, though. En _dear_ ment. I mean, some people like to say ‘dude’, or ‘bro’, or ‘homie’, or – “

“If Henry picks up those words, I will blame you.”

“And if he calls another boy ‘dear’, He’ll have no choice but to blame you.”

She bit her lip. She had a point, there. “Well, thank God he’s the son of the Mayor.”

“Do you mind it when he calls you a Queen?”

“A queen? Not at all. Evil? Yes, I do take offense, sometimes.”

“And I’m supposed to be some kind of savior, correct?”

Her posture didn’t change, but she was sure Regina’s knuckles on the steering wheel began to whiten. “From what he screams at me on occasion, it would seem so.”

“Relax, queenie. I’m not here to slay you. I’m just entertaining the notion for a second. For a hot minute there, you were trying to drive me out of town like you thought it was all true.”

When Regina kept silent, Emma made a mental _tick,_ took a deep breath and continued. “Well, I don’t think I’m here to fulfill some prophecy, or break some curse. But I do feel a purpose here. Does that sound crazy?”

“It sounds asinine. But it sounds far better than the idea of a magical curse. I’d love to hear more.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make much sense to me, either.” She folded her arms on her lap. “But hey, a lot of things happened in my life I can’t explain. If I’m a Savior, that’s supposed to bring nothing but joy and happy endings, I assure you I’m a colossally shitty Savior. Or I’d make a decent masseuse.”

The brunette chuckled, releasing the tension in the car. Emma was glad she could get Regina to smile like that.

She was _slightly_ concerned on why that statement seemed to calm her more than it was supposed to.

For now, she could ignore it. For now, she wouldn’t question it. She was content to enjoy it.

She didn’t want to ruin the literal best thing to happen to her in years. At least until after the first date. Maybe the second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I sound repetitive for thanking Ship_Wrecked for another review, but if you want something new, add your name to the apparently exclusive list, like RonisGirlSQ did! A thank you to lolaughoutloud1 as well, for your kudos!
> 
> Thank you for reading. I’ll be going back and forth, regurgitating the alternate lore of Emma and Regina, through third person accounts and through Emmalina’s POV. Emma isn’t fully suspicious of Regina’s past and Henry’s story (yet), but she has questions. Rather than her being stubborn for a year, she’ll pick up inconsistencies and, you know, obvious giveaways. I might skip some unimportant scenes (or very important scenes) to get to my narrative, but this is mainly about Emma finding out the truth in a different way, and Regina working on how to correct some mistakes.
> 
> … Yes, I watched Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs for the very first time, for the purposes of this chapter and beyond. Equal parts darker and funner than I expected, and I loved it. Makes me appreciate not only Disney the man, but the forgotten art of hand drawn animation, especially without modern tech.
> 
> … Yes, Emma will have to make Regina sit down and watch the movie with her. And you should, too!
> 
> Please Review! I encourage you to go to go.rihaansfics.com/emmalina, to see the next chapter, and leave a review there, too! Wouldn't you like a shoutout as well?


	5. The Dating Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina puts her heart on the line, for a chance at Emma's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedications: A Special thank you to Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), Atomic Stryker, and mxwn. A thousand thanks for your support.

Regina Mills stood in her bedroom, inspecting herself in her full-length mirror. Twirling around gracefully, she began to hum a sweet tune.

Her free, unconstrained smile slowly morphed into a frown. Then a full scowl.

“What in the _hell_ is wrong with me?”

The past week had been completely out of her control, as afraid as she was to admit it. She was the Mayor, and before that, a _Queen,_ ruling with an iron fist and a cold, steel heart. In her twenty-eight years of modern rule, she had been fair, and perhaps a bit harsh. Granted, she didn’t have to do much in her many years, considering before she brought Henry into her life, and to Storybrooke, every day was the same. No one had even asked for pay, or a budget, back then. But in the past ten years, she had taken her job as mayor seriously, having studied her role meticulously.

Unlike the rest of the citizens of Storybrooke, she didn’t have a persona to graft information from. She wasn’t created with a PhD like Doctor Hopper, nor a teaching history like Blanchard. She was Regina, a former ruler who found herself with no magic and no new knowledge. And she had thrived, perfected the art, and was an everyday modern mayor. Unlike a Queen, she could get impeached if she abused her power, but to this point, her citizens had never even considered it.

She was a fair mayor. The people respected her, and perhaps there was a bit of fear, there. Blanchard was alone, and Gold was oblivious. Despite the turbulence with her son, she was sure that he could see reason, when she was sure he was ready to hear the truth. All was well.

And then Emma came along.

There was always a catch, and she had been waiting twenty-eight years for it. The mother of her son wanted her child back. The Savior of Rumplestiltskin’s prophecy was here to slay the Evil Queen. The Bringer of Happy Endings had arrived, to destroy hers.

Except she didn’t at all. Instead, Emma Swan, this complete unknown, was here to steal the Queen’s heart in a most unexpected way.

Regina found herself curious about this enigma. There was something unsettling about it all, the way she was approached, the way she was submitted to. The way she was _desired_.

Emma had shown up at her door with her son in the middle of the night, and her fear and worry turned into confusion, and Henry had this sweet little smile on his face that she hadn’t seen on him in months, and she would have been crying tears of joy if it wasn’t for her suffering. It was a smile meant for her, directed at her, for her to take in. But it wasn’t for her. It was for the woman behind him, gripping his shoulder. It was for the _end_ of her. And he didn’t even have to say it. He let her know with a simple, tired, genuinely proud smile.

That killed her fury. It killed her will to fight, or to even move. Mother and son gazed at each other, reunited, and Regina had never felt worse in her twenty eight years in Storybrooke.

The blonde herself told Henry to go to bed, and like the respectful son she had raised him to be, he didn’t argue, and ran upstairs with that goddamned book in his hands, not giving his adopted mother a second glance.

That had _hurt_.

And then Emma said something that she would never forget.

_“He’ll talk to you in the morning. He’ll apologize. He’s just angry. But he loves you. He’s just at that age. He just doesn’t know how lucky he is.”_

She had said it all so casually, but it was so loaded with everything she wanted to hear. She was so assured with the way she said it, too, like she had never been so sure of anything. It made Regina think that Emma had _told_ him to sleep it off and apologize in the morning.

She was wary of the beautiful woman in front of her, smiling like it wasn’t two in the morning, a virtual stranger leading her into a strange town, being told even stranger stories.

She dipped her toe in lightly, asking Emma to come in and share the cider she was just about finished with. It wasn’t fireball practice, but it was one of the few things she could do in the new world when she was worried.

Regina didn’t know what she was going to do with Henry, and Emma had a few ideas that she wasn’t keen on, simply because it was Emma that had them.

She had been dismissive. Somewhat callous. Very drunk. But perhaps a tad loose-lipped. Emma only watched on with amusement as she vented her grievances, tightly bunched with a virtual stranger on a couch, in front of the bottle. She was sure she cried at some point.

Regina was angry at a lot of things. Henry for skipping state lines. Sheriff Graham for not noticing. Miss Blanchard for being so careless with her credit card (and she wasn’t so sure if Mary Margaret _let_ him take it or not.) Archie, for not realizing the signs that Henry was going to take a more active role in his ‘delusion’. Emma for giving Henry up in the first place.

That might have slipped out. It was one of the heavier ciders that she had crafted, with far more proof than apple extract. Of course, Emma was offended. And then _she_ said words, like Henry had to search for his birth mother because he didn’t think his adopted mother loved him; that while Emma may have given him up, _He_ had given up on _Regina._

She grabbed her worn red leather jacket off the hook, knocking it over, and marched out the door, presumably out of her life.

Regina felt, for the first time in a long time, a still-familiar sensation – disappointment.

She had felt disappointed many times in her life. It started with her father for never standing up to her mother. It continued for Snow White when she told her mother about Daniel. Then the Huntsman for not killing Snow. Her mother for never trying to be a mother. And perhaps, at some point in her life, Daniel, for believing that her mother would ever let her go. All those times, that disappointment quickly evolved into anger. This time was different. Oh, she was still disappointed, and suddenly angered, but it wasn’t at Miss Swan. It was at herself.

She had lost her composure. She was flustered. The mother of her child, the _savior,_ had seen her _drunk_ , crying, and vulnerable. She had let her walls down in a way that only her mother, father and Rocinante, her trusted steed, had ever seen. And the woman had talked to her in such a way… it made her seethe with indignation. Just the thought of it –

She grabbed another bottle from the cellar, but before she went for the cork, She reconsidered.

Her disrespect could not be ignored, but her presence in itself was the most damaging – words said in the heat of the moment meant nothing. Emma Swan was the _Savior_. She marked the end of her happy ending, and possibly the end of her life. Confronting her was not an option. She’d have to be cleverer than that.

An idea of an apple turnover was still invading her thoughts the following morning, when Henry did the unexpected; he apologized for running away. He showed her Mary Margaret’s stolen credit card that she had completely forgotten to ask about. And he hugged her, before they went to the car. He didn’t kiss her on the cheek when he got out to enter the school as usual, but it was a start.

Perhaps… perhaps she had miscalculated what Emma was here for. Perhaps – _perhaps_ – Regina could find a different approach, and instead of antagonizing Miss Swan, she could appease to her?

She had everything to lose, but even more to gain, if she made the right play. It inspired Regina to come to Emma’s apartment, after getting the right room number from Granny, with a basket of apples, the bottle of wine she had pulled the night before, and a formal send-off. Ideas of poison left her mind – she wouldn’t need it if Emma planned on leaving, and her sleeping death ingredients were difficult to come by nowadays.

And she did, legitimately, want to apologize to the blonde. She was… charming. A natural, well-kept, quick-witted woman, with a pretty laugh and, maybe in another life, they would have been the best of friends. A life where the Evil Queen didn’t exist. If she were honest with herself, Emma reminded her of an alternate Regina, one that could stand up to her mother, and become the woman she had always wanted to be.

The night they met, despite the aggression and tension, Regina gained respect for the birth mother of her son.

The following day, Regina saw, and wanted, so much more.

She had the distinct feeling that Emma might have been attracted to her. The blonde didn’t appear to be a lightweight with alcohol, and Regina, admittedly, _was,_ but lingering touches on the couch in her sitting room, silly smiles and curious glances, sharing a half-empty bottle of cider, she could’ve sworn that the blonde was happily playing along with the tipsy brunette. At least, Regina had thought so. She was drunk at the time, what did she know?

Emma had answered the door after several knocks, with half-lidded eyes – understandable, considering she had unexpectedly driven a few hours in the middle of the night with her long lost son and had a bit to drink – and, clearly, her bed clothes.

Apparently, she only slept in her underclothes. Specifically, a translucent tank top and boxers.

From a single look over, Regina realized several things at once.

Emma wasn’t wearing a bra. That observation, in more ways than one, was pointed out to her. Two, Emma was _toned_ and _fit_ and _strong_ and _beautiful_ and … well, it was just rare to see something of that combination, displayed to her in such a blatant way. Three was more obvious than she could admit – there was a very mutual attraction. The almost innocent way Emma’s eyes brightened when she saw Regina, despite the drunken things said the previous night, and the, well, evidence that Emma wasn’t wearing a bra, and the pure, blindingly white smile of happiness that burst forth like a curse breaker in itself screamed at Regina that she was, at the very least, interested in her, or, possibly, the wine in her grasp.

Regina did a mental coin flip in her head, and decided the smile wasn’t for the basket.

Emma made a joke about very accommodating room service, but Regina was half-listening. She bit her lip, pondering her next step.

She and the Huntsman had tried for something, once, back in the Enchanted Forest, and as it turns out, trying to have sex with someone whose _heart_ wasn’t really in it lacked the passion she desired. Maleficent had presented the opportunity for a bed mate, but she was turned away. Regina had seen her more as an annoying, but useful, older sister. Her supposed ‘soulmate’, with the lion tattoo, was a simple misdirection – a distraction for a vulnerable woman who had a choice to make, and ultimately chose the side of evil. He, whoever he was, was for a different Regina.

Rumple… ew. No, and _never_.

Facilier… his attempt was humorous at best. He lost his life trying. She wasn’t lowering herself to a voodoo witch doctor, no matter how suave he thought he was.

Many would underestimate Regina’s life-long pursuit of Snow White’s demise. Lying with anyone, or sexual pleasure in general, just didn’t have much meaning to her after _Leopold_. She had been mostly true to Daniel, confident that one day, she would join him, either in the enchanted forest, or after Snow died of a broken heart and spirit, and Regina decided to move on, of her own volition.

She had began to admit it as an impossibility after she made the choice to send everyone to a land without magic. But there was no one in the town that she truly desired, and there was _no one_ that looked at her like…

Like how Emma was looking at her at that very moment. To her face, anyway.

Regina was never one to take risks. If there was _anything_ that Rumple and Cora taught her that she fully agreed with, it was to always have a plan.

In that moment, she took a risk.

Slowly lifting her leather gloved hand, she swept the messy blond hair away from the half-asleep, deeply confused, very captivated, captive eyes. Her other hand held the basket up, reaching inside the doorway and placing it on the vanity next to her.

One step forward, she made sure the door closed behind her.

And now, in the present, Regina cursed as she started to hum again, in a sickening sweet tune she didn’t know.

She stared into the mirror, trying to recognize the woman she saw. It was familiar in so many unfamiliar ways.

She remembered seeing someone so unironically happy, once. That was forty-five years ago.

Lady Regina was truly the fairest of them all, back then. She was a great deal paler, too.

Suddenly wishing Sidney had been reincarnated as a fashion designer and consultant, instead of a useless reporter in a tedious town, she took another good look at herself, before she nodded satisfactorily.

Wearing a black, form-fitting sparkling dress and heels, she brushed her short hair once more, smiling dazzlingly into her vanity mirror.

Finally, here she was, a woman with a plan again.

She didn’t have a lot to prepare for in her twenty-eight years, when it came to the Savior. Rumple never even told her a name. She had assumed that it would have been a man, for one. Those were the easiest to make fall at her feet, even without her charm. As long as she didn’t turn into a dragon, they wouldn’t touch her.

Regina didn’t even try, and Emma was smitten with her. _Naturally_. She didn’t fall for an act, she fell for _her_ , at one of her most vulnerable moments. That put Regina off-guard, but not totally out of action.

She _wanted_ Emma, that much was true. She wanted her again, and again and _again._ But more importantly, she wanted Emma _on her side_. She wanted the savior to fight with her, _for_ her, before the first spell would ever be cast.

Emma, beyond everything, wanted a relationship with her. And that was exactly what Emma was going to get. Regina found herself more than accommodating.

If, somehow, Emma fell in love with the Evil Queen, then the prophecy, and Rumple, could go fuck itself properly. All the paranoia she had brought upon herself through Rumple’s warnings and taunts before she enacted the curse, would have been for this moment. She could finally have her happy ending, with her son at her side and her very own personal savior at the other.

And if Regina disappointed herself again, and could never have Emma’s heart, well… she could always just _take it_.

Checking her purse, her fingers stroked over her special nail polish, before she nodded at herself. Humming again, she turned off the lights in her room.

She was at the start of the staircase, before she heard Emma and Henry discussing something downstairs. She struggled to hear their words.

“…to stop. Seriously.”

“She’s evil!”

“Shouldn’t I be the judge of that? You don’t get to tell me how I should feel about someone I just met.”

“Emma, you’re not listening to me!”

“Henry, I’m clearly listening to you. But apparently, you can’t care less about what I have to say. I can be your friend, or I can be just another annoying adult in this town, but you have to _tone it down_.”

She heard him let out a groan of frustration, and she clutched her purse tighter to herself, knowing that the anger was towards _her_.

Emma sounded casual about it. “Look, you think your mom is evil. I don’t. I’m entitled to my opinion, right?”

“This is not an opinion! It’s a fact! ‘Evil’ is in her name!”

“Kid, I don’t know her middle name, but I’m pretty sure it’s not ‘Evil’. If it is, then I gotta be honest, that’s pretty badass.”

So enraptured at trying to hear her son’s response, she couldn’t admonish Emma on her vulgarity.

“You _saw_ the big clock, right? Eight fifteen?”

“Yeah. I saw that it changed.”

“And? What does that tell you?”

“That someone was late changing the batteries, or whatever they do up there. The front door was chained up. Maybe they had to wait on the locksmith, or permission from _the mayor_ to cut the chains. Oh, wait! She might’ve been too busy looking for her _son_!”

“You’re in denial, Emma. I’m trying to get you to see the truth, so you can save us.”

“Look… you’re in a fun phase in your life, Henry. I wasn’t allowed to have an imagination like yours. Part of me wants you to keep this part of your childhood as long as you can. But you’re starting to worry your mother, and if you don’t care about that, you’re starting to worry _me_ , and everyone in this town that cares about you.”

There was a long silence, and Regina began to worry that they were whispering, hiding, from her.

Finally, she heard Emma speak. “Fine. You want me to see the truth? You want me to save this town, to save you? Give me the book.”

“What’re you going to do with it?”

“Well, what do _you_ do with books? I’m gonna read it, dummy. I thought you were smart. You _do_ need saving.”

“Hey!”

“Just yanking your chain, kid. If you could uncover an entire conspiracy in a storybook for children, then I guess I should give you some credit. I need to see what you see. And I can’t do that…”

“…Without the book. Okay. I don’t have it right now, but I can get it for you,” he added quickly.

“Good. Now, what’s your curfew?”

“Ten.”

“Try again.”

“…Nine.”

She laughed, her melodic voice ringing upstairs. “Wow, I guessed. The first answer is always a lie, I guess that never changes. Try to get some sleep. No one is going to kill each other tonight. And if you don’t hear from your mother and me by morning, call Miss Blanchard, and she’ll pick you up to take you to school. Here’s her number.”

Regina blinked rapidly, her frown deepening. _Interesting_.

“I will. But… how do you know she won’t kill you?”

“I’m the savior. Not possible. That’s just how it works.”

“I – I guess that makes sense.”

Damn her. That’s _exactly_ how it worked, no matter how facetious she was being.

“Besides,” Emma spoke again, taking on a considerably softer tone, “You said you wanted me to help others. I think it’s pointless. I’m spending the time I need on the people who need my help the most. You just don’t know it.”

“You’re starting to sound like me. But what makes you say that?”

She clicked her tongue. “I guess you’ll just find out when you give me the book.” She sighed, _loudly._ “You know, she’s taking a long time up there. Wanna go check up on her for me?”

Regina took a resigned sigh, smoothing down her dress as she stood up from the banister. She didn’t remember when she had begun to kneel, she was so engrossed with the discussion. “No need, Miss Swan. I do not need my son to see me getting prepared for our outing.”

“Oh, Madam Mayor! My apologies.” Her brilliant smile almost made Regina forget how to walk down stairs. “Would I have been allowed to see?”

“A woman has her secrets,” she replied primly, before smirking at the blonde. “Henry, what is your curfew again – on a weeknight? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Eight thirty,” he muttered, causing Emma to laugh. “So, you were listening in on us?”

“I would have done it the old-fashioned way, but my magic mirror on the wall was on the fritz.” She sent a dazzling, unironic smile at her date. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

“Yeah, let me just pull up my broom to the front door.” She laughed at Henry’s disgruntled look. “I think he’s upset. Does a nine-thirty curfew sound good? Just this once?”

“I suppose,” Regina mumbled to herself, her fingers pinching her chin. “But don’t expect this to be a habit.” She didn’t particularly like the idea of bribing him with rewards, but she planned on having a pleasant night out. “Now, if you two are done demonizing me, I think we might make reservation. Sheriff Graham is a phone call away if you need him. Try to stay within the state lines, tonight.”

* * *

“ _Sebastian’s Bistro_ ,” Emma tested the name on her tongue. “Kind of a mouthful. I would’ve preferred _Sabistro._ The appetizers make up for it, though.”

Regina nodded, not really looking at the menu, knowing her favorites at this point. The beachfront restaurant was a regular of hers, whether it be for business meetings or if she had a sudden aquatic taste. And if they wanted to keep her business, then they’d encourage anyone attending tonight to keep their fat mouths shut, of course. “I recommend something from the seafood menu, for the main course. They are renowned for their lobster. They even have a little market down the street called the Grotto.”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, nonplussed. “I guess I should’ve seen that one coming. Have you tried their flounder?”

“Oh, is that on the menu?”

“No, I was just… oh, wait, here it is.” She breathed a little through her nose, not sure if she was dying a little on the inside or not. “Lobster it is. What’ll you have?”

“Actually, I think I’ll have the same.” She folded her menu, before handing it to the Jamaican server, Emma quickly following. “Are you enjoying yourself in Storybrooke, Emma?”

“I think I very much am, Regina.” She fluttered her eyelids. “Forgive me?”

“For what, dear?”

“That whole thing with Henry. He seemed colossally upset. I was trying to lighten his mood.”

“I completely understand. Besides,” she took a sip of her champagne, “I don’t think I would have ever left the house, had he decided to persist with his temper.”

“Can’t have that,” she agreed, a cheeky grin curled around a cheesy bread stick.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” Regina slowly began, steepling her fingers across the short, round table. “How _do_ you have Miss Blanchard’s number?”

“Hm? Oh. I thought I told you. She’s my roommate.”

“…I… see.”

“Wait. Is there a history between you two?”

“You could say that, yes. We’ve had quite a few disagreements in the past.”

She made an interested hum. “Did you disagree with the fact that she was a straight, boring prude?”

“…What? _NO_! _God_ , no! _Absolutely not_!”

“Woah, woah! Calm down!” She was pink in the cheeks, trying to contain her laughter. “Sorry! It’s just… you came off as a little jealous, and she comes off as sweet. Probably _too_ sweet. She warned me that you’re hard to approach. Is she hiding a dark secret or something?”

Regina huffed. “I’m sorry, it’s just, she spread a rumor about me once. I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

“I understand. I just, I needed to know if I should get a new roommate if I wanted to keep seeing you.”

“I assure you, Emma, that won’t be an issue.” They both shared a brief smile at Regina’s adamant statement. “But how are you paying for room? I know what I pay Miss Blanchard. What do you do for a living?”

“Hm? I thought I told you?”

“You said you work in law enforcement. Though, I don’t really understand how, with a criminal record.”

“Oh, I’m a bounty hunter. Not ‘on the record’ law enforcement; I don’t have a badge or anything, but it pays well, and I work my own hours.”

“And that’s what you prefer in a career? To work your own hours?”

She shrugged. “I’m not against the idea of a good schedule. Sleeping during the day, and stalking people at night, doesn’t make for a good social life.”

“Would you be willing to fill a job position in Storybrooke? Temporarily?”

“… Is this a job interview?”

“Partially.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” She finished her flute of champagne. “Okay, what do you have for me?”

Before she could speak, the waiter came back with their lobsters. “Oh, thank you, Sebastian. It looks superb.”

“Anything for de miss.” He nodded at both of them. “Enjoy ya meal, fresh from de ocean.”

Emma’s mouth watered at the steaming red meal that was larger than her head, before she eyed the mayor. “I question the strategy of ordering seafood on a date.”

“You mean you don’t carry mouthwash with you?”

“I mean, I carry around my toiletries for my job. Wait – you carry mouthwash with you?”

“I didn’t. I did today. And a spare set of clothes, should the need arise.”

She loved seeing the slightly glazed over eyes of her date, before she composed herself. “Oh, um, sorry. About that job?”

Regina shook her head. “I had a few questions, first.”

“Ah,” she chuckled. “So this really _is_ an interview. Alright, lay it on me.”

“What did you leave behind in Boston? Why the abrupt change? Was it for Henry? For me?”

“No.” she sighed heavily, grabbing her complimentary shell cracker. “I won’t lie – it was a factor, two of many. But I did it for me. I needed a change in scenery. Coming into an empty apartment on my birthday, without so much as a dog to greet me at the door, is… eye-opening. In a way, I’m glad Henry showed up when he did. I mean, he could’ve let me sleep first.”

Regina suckled delicately on one of the legs, and Emma temporarily lost her train of thought. “Henry tends to do that; he comes into your life when you’re the most alone.”

“Have you considered a pet?”

“I don’t get along well with animals. Rather, they tend to avoid me, or try to attack me. I had a horse once, and a ranch, but… he died. He was as gentle as a kitten.”

She nodded in commiseration. “I get along great with animals. A stray or two follows me home. But I’m so busy, I have to take them to a shelter. New York bounty hunters are in high demand, I found.”

“How would you like a job that would be more mundane?”

“Like paperwork?”

“Not much. It’s a very menial job, but there’s suddenly been an opening.”

“Ominous. I love it.” With a very subtle flex, the entire body of the lobster cracked in half. She didn’t catch Regina worry her lip. “What’s the job?”

The brunette cleared her throat, putting Emma’s bare arms out of her mind. For the moment. “Deputy Sheriff. If you would like to have it.”

She blinked rapidly, stopping in mid-bite. “What?”

“You don’t have to give me an answer, now. This is a very small town, and our sheriff has suggested an extended vacation. I think you would make a suitable replacement.”

“Are you sure about this? You’ve known me for two weeks, Regina.”

“And it’s been well over a decade since I’ve done this. You said it yourself – I don’t trust many people around me, or Henry. I understand if you can’t accept. I won’t hold it over you. I just couldn’t think of anyone else under such short notice.” ‘ _Or at all_.’

“I…” She paused. “How long have you been mayor? If you don’t mind me asking? No one’s really given me a straight answer.”

She bit her lip, her eyes firmly on her plate. “I barely remember my first day in office. I told you this is the first time I’ve left the house on a social matter in over ten years. Coincidentally, that about lines up with that day.”

Her eyebrows went into her hair, and Regina could feel Emma’s gaze stroke over her, scrutinizing. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. Ten years? You can’t be any older than I am. How did you get in so young? How is holding office that long even _possible?”_

“You flatter me, but I assure you, I was well-groomed for the position, and there were no laws preventing me from prolonging the wait. I’ve run unopposed ever since. No one knows this town better than myself, Miss Swan. Everyone has their unique abilities, here. That is why,” she reached over, placing her palm on Emma’s, taking a lightly shuddering breath. “That is why I would like you to do the job that is ill-suited to anyone else in this town. I trust you.”

“But… my ‘criminal record’?”

“And that’s where the paperwork comes in. Most of it can be found in file cabinets, at the sheriff’s station and at the Mayor’s office. As I said, it’s a small town, and whatever you decide to fill out, as a citizen of Storybrooke, will very likely not be followed up on.”

“So, my first order as Deputy Sheriff is to break the law?” She raised her empty glass. “To a new start!”

She grinned, toasting her own flute with Emma’s. “It’s not a law if no one enforces it. To a new start!”

* * *

**~Present Day~**

“For, like, two seconds, before the date even started, Regina wanted to rip Emma’s heart out. Wouldn’t have been the last time.”

“Yeah, I could believe that.” Lily Page rested her head on the table, staring at her friend through half-lidded eyes. “From what mom tells me, it’s kinda her thing.”

“Better than a fireball,” Emmalina commented, perusing the shelves. “Well, she thought about it – the heart thing, not the fireball. Emma was agreeable to just about everything she wanted. What Regina didn’t know at the time was that she was also very amenable to Emma. Thanks to Emma’s power, not once did Regina try to lie to her. It was just enough to get by with half-truths, but Emma figured if Regina could stay in that mindset – never lie to her – then she knew they had something together, and she was one step closer to solving the mystery.” She made a happy hum, pleased with herself. “Found anything while I was gone? Where is Mal anyway?”

“Shut up, you already know where she is, you omnipotent doof; taking a nap.” She yawned. “That’s a good idea, actually.”

“Go ahead. You’ve earned it. But,” she held up her finger as Lily stood, “I wanted to give you a gift. Seriously, thank you for your help.”

Lily waved her hand around the mansion, the rows and rows of books across shelves. “Letting us live in Merlin’s house wasn’t enough of a gift?”

“While a big house is nice, it’s not your happy ending.”

“Oh, that.” She waved it off. “We can settle that after I get some damn sleep.”

“There you go – making bad decisions again.”

Her former best friend gave her a hard stare, while Emmalina stared innocently back. “You know, being the most powerful whatever in history, doesn’t mean you have to be a dick.”

“Oh, you know you love it. Besides, what if my gift to you is to take the burden away?”

“Take… take _what_ away?”

“Your darkness. _My_ darkness. Give you a clear mind. Balance the scales. As it should’ve been.”

Lily snorted. “Keep that up. You sound like Thanos.”

“Okay, firstly, I don’t like being compared to a purple Homer Simpson. Also, I don’t need a glove to cause chaos.”

“Are you omniscient, now? You seem to know a lot about him.”

“I _have_ to. I have a fifteen-year-old son. You just reminded me to get him one of those gauntlets, by the way. Something tells me they’re going to be in high demand someday. Hell, I could probably snap my fingers and get a _real_ gauntlet, stones and all.” She sighed hopefully. “What were we talking about?”

“Did _Emma_ just go on a tangent?”

“Our son isn’t the only comic fan.” She lifted her fingers, slowly and deliberately. “This is the first time I’ve done this, so I’ll either restore the bit of humanity that you lost, or wipe out half the universe.”

“Fuck, lady. I really wish I was more awake for this.”

“Aww, are you tired? I mean, I _guess_ I could wait until tomorrow if you – “

###  _ S  N  A  P  ! _

With another wave of her hand, she summoned a soft sofa chair for Lily to slump into. “Sorry, Lils,” she sympathized, walking over to the unconscious girl, stroking her dark brown hair. “Running on a very, ah, precise schedule. I hope you enjoy your gift, little one.” The darkness flowed easily out of her friend, a smoky, tendril-like substance, and into a prepared vial on her belt. “And I will be sure to enjoy mine.”

With a soft kiss to her friend’s temple, Emmalina whisked herself away, finally leaving the boundaries of Storybrooke, and Maine.

She figured it was time to visit the supposed Puppet Master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. Emmalina's story is set in 2015-2016, with the 'Main' Story set in late 2011 as of this chapter, in case you needed a reminder. Just a fun reference to Infinity War at the end, before it became the biggest movie ever (and I wrote this part of the story around the time it came out), because Emma would totally do this. I think. Might be a reach, but it tickled me, so it's written.
> 
> Again, thank you all for your support. Not just my "$upporters", but my readers, and especially my reviewers (like RonisGirlSQ and Ship_Wrecked, who commented my last chapter, and EvilWickedMaxxeen who gave kudos)! I mean, if it's bad to you, I can't improve a story without insight, and community, and second and third opinions, or I'm just gonna end up writing gibberish that only I could appreciate. The SwanQueen fandom is vocal, or so I've been told, but I want to believe in the magic!


	6. Dreaming, Wishing, Hearts in the Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinderella puns aside, Emma unravels a few more secrets in Storybrooke, while Regina tries to enact the hardest part of her plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), AtomicStryker, and mxwn.

New York City; where anyone could be anyone they wanted, where anything was possible. The Big Apple.

After a few seconds of internal debate, Emmalina decided that, no, New York City was merely an acceptable runner-up to her own town.

“I think it’s a valid point,” she complained, her captive audience barely hanging on to her words. “How can you be known as ‘The Big Apple’ if you’re not even known for having the best apples? Their most known garden isn’t even a real garden. It’s embarrassing.”

Isaac said nothing, his hand trembling over the open pages.

“Oh, relax, dear. You’re shaking. I’m not gonna kill you or anything; you’re barely in the narrative. I just want you to write down a few words. The sooner I can get out of your poorly mishandled hair, the sooner you’re out of mine.”

“What’s in it for me?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Your happy ending. Even I don’t know what that is, and I don’t care. Within reason, it’s yours.”

“That won’t work. If I try to write down my own ending, my right as the author is terminated– “

“Yes, yes, I know. But that’s if _you_ write it down. If I grant it, completely separate of the book’s capabilities, then that’s not really breaking the rules, is it?”

“Where would I get the ink? That’s pretty hard to come by, if you haven’t noticed.”

Emmalina smirked, pulling a vial from her belt. The swirling substance fogged the inside of the vial, but after a few shakes, it settled into a liquid. “I present to you a magic that is most potent – The Darkness of the Savior.” She placed the vial next to the book. “Well? Let’s do this.”

The ink flowed freely into the pen when he tried dipping it, and he felt a chill as the pen took on a slight glow.

With a deep, steady breath, he wrote down seven powerful words.

_And They All Lived Happily Ever After._

* * *

**~Years Ago~**

“So, your job is to literally save people, now.”

Emma took a calm breath, catching herself from saying something she’d regret to her son. “Yeah, kid, I get it. I’m some sort of savior, now.”

“Yup,” he said casually, leaning forward on the counter. “And you’re on your first step to saving all of us.”

“You’re forgetting something, kid. Your mom gave me this job, so I’m sure this is some part of her evil scheme.”

He frowned. “I didn’t think about that. What’s her game?”

“I think her game was to give me a job she thought I would like.” She spread out her arms, gesturing to the small collection of cells around her. “Some peace and quiet, in a small, peaceful town. I very much like.”

“Just because you don’t hear screaming, doesn’t mean they don’t need your help.”

“You should put that on a shirt. And while this town is a bit outdated, there are still phones.” She clicked her tongue. “Where are you supposed to be, anyway?”

He shrugged, crossing his arms on her desk. “Who cares? I’m not allowed to spend time with my own mom?”

He was lucky she had already drunk her coffee, or else she would have arrested him for making her choke on it. “You are seriously not gonna make this any easier for me, kid?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what you see in her.”

“And you won’t for a few years yet. If I accused one of your future girlfriends of being a succubus, then you’ll understand why I’m ignoring you now, ’cause you certainly will.” She folded her hands together. “Now, if don’t come with me willingly to Doctor Hopper’s appointment, I will escort you, with handcuffs. How does that sound?”

“That sounds pretty awesome. Thanks, Ma!”

She let out a laugh. “Good answer. You’re like the son I almost had.”

“Thanks?”

“No Problem. Come on, before your mother gets worried.”

He scoffed, but before he could say anything, she tapped him on the back of the head as she reached for her leather jacket. “Ow! What? I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” she commented, rolling her neck. “And last time I checked, she never hit you. Thank your lucky stars you’re not my kid, or I’d lock you in the trunk of my bug if you’d accused me of being evil, or running out of the state.”

“So, your response is… to be evil?”

“No. It’d be a well-deserved lesson for a spoiled brat who stole a credit card.” She pulled his hands forward, quickly cuffing them. “But we do what we do because we love. Are these too tight?”

He shook his head. “But I’m not pretending, here. She really is evil.”

“Oh, hush. Bring me some _evidence_. You’re the one who lost the book.”

“I didn’t lose the book! She stole it!”

“First rule; don’t assume anything. It just makes an ass out of you and me. Don’t go accusing people of things you don’t really know. Books just don’t disappear on their own.”

“They could if they’re magic.”

“And it might show up again if it’s magic. So maybe your mother didn’t steal it?”

He grumbled something, while she was trying the pin the sheriff’s badge on her jacket. She was sure it was some kind of begrudging acceptance, but she was more interested in the distant clack of heels coming up the entrance hall. “Someone there?”

“Emma?” Regina rounded the doorway. “Hi… am I missing something here?”

“That depends. I was just about to escort your son to therapy. The cuffs were his idea.”

Henry’s mouth dropped at the betrayal, while Emma smiled innocently. “I see. Henry didn’t tell you?”

“Hm? Tell me what?”

“We’ve discussed it, and I don’t think his therapy is helping him much. Henry will no longer be seeing him.”

“Huh. Will he be seeing a different therapist?”

“I don’t need a therapist!”

“Hush, kid. You’re not too young to be put in one of these cells. Hold on – you almost made me drop you off at his place, and he wasn’t even expecting you! Where were you planning on going after I left?”

“That’s a good question.” Looking ever so much like the Regal Mayor she was, she crossed her arms and frowned, which Emma quickly learned is more intimidating than any criminal she had ever faced down. “Well, Henry Mills?”

He looked down to the floor, and Emma bit her lip and looked away, for entirely different reasons. That black pencil skirt Regina wore, combined with the imperiousness in her eyes, almost made the new Sheriff _hurt_.

“Someone I know. Ashley. She needs help.”

“The maid at the diner?”

Henry nodded. “I was going to ask for a bite to eat at Granny’s first, and get you to talk to her.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She stole something from The Dark… uh, Mister Gold.”

“Oh, that’s not good,” Regina muttered, before clearing her throat. “Well, I was going to see how well you were coming along with your new post as Sheriff, but I guess I’ll have to see for myself.”

Emma bit her lip. “Gold? Is he the creepy, cryptic old man with the cane?”

“The one and the same. And if this Ashley girl stole something of his, you can bet he’s going to skirt the law to get it back.”

“Okay. Henry, I guess you ride in the back. Mayor, I hope you can tell me more about him?”

“He’s one of my oldest friends,” she admitted, walking alongside her to the patrol car parked outside. “We’ve had a falling out, but the man hasn’t changed.”

“Alright, well, if I have to put cuffs on the guy, I hope it isn’t a conflict of interest.”

“By all means, Emma, feel free to. He hasn’t done something this brash in years, to warrant a woman fearing for her life.”

“And how did you come across this, Henry?”

“He asked for my help tracking her down.”

“He _what_?”

“He endangered a minor,” Emma muttered to herself, her tone grim. “He put our son in this.”

Regina looked over to Emma, seeing the hard stare in her eyes as she uncuffed her son, and quickly decided that now was not the time to bring up the blonde’s wording.

She wasn’t sure if she liked it, but she definitely loved Emma’s fierce protectiveness. She’d allow it, for now.

* * *

“You’re making a terrible mistake of this, Sheriff.”

“Yeah, well, first week on the job. Mistakes are bound to happen.”

“You will be hearing from my lawyer, dearie.”

“I’m sure I went over that in the Miranda Rights. Personally, I’d love to hear how you plan to explain your ownership of someone else’s baby.” She clicked the cuffs into place, looking back to check on the heavily pregnant girl. “Mayor Mills, I think she needs to go to the hospital. Do you think you could – “

“Of course, Sheriff.” With a quick hug, and making sure Gold wasn’t watching, Regina grabbed the keys and quickly went to the woman, escorting her to the car.

Gold watched the mayor drive off with Ashley and Henry, perplexed. “How are we – ?”

“We walk. Now.”

He gave her an angry look. “I can’t walk without my cane!”

“Well, you really should’ve thought of that before you got into the Black Market R Us.”

“I wasn’t _tradin’_ the dear child. I was just gonna – ” he stopped abruptly at her glare. “It’s not what ya think.”

“I’m sure it isn’t.” Reaching over to grab the cane, she placed it in his hand. “Try anything funny, I beat you with the cane. Got it?”

“A touch aggressive today, are we, Sheriff?”

“You’re a loan shark who bargained for a child. How the hell am I supposed to react to that?”

“We made a deal, Sheriff. She signed the contract, and she reneged on the deal. She’s just as guilty.”

“Have you ever seen Fifty Shades? Just because someone can physically sign away their rights, doesn’t mean it’s legal.” She hummed to herself. “And thanks for admitting to your guilt; saved me the trouble.”

He merely grunted, hobbling along as Emma held his arm, practically hoisting him through the streets. The people stopped to look, and gawk at the spectacular sight, and Emma was finally beginning to understand the weight of this action. “This is cruel and unusual punishment, Sheriff. My lawyer will have quite a fun time with you.”

“Please. The Mayor told me all about you. You don’t have a lawyer. You don’t trust anyone to be your lawyer. You bring anyone into that station that looks the slightest bit uncomfortable, I’ll be looking into them. If I find a hint of blackmail, rather than a cold hard check deposit, you’ll never see the outside of the station ever again. So enjoy this walk.”

“I have very powerful friends, Sheriff Swan. And you just made some powerful enemies.” He made a tired noise of amusement. “But I see you’ve made a very powerful ally of your own. Has the Mayor finally been offered a hand of friendship?”

She rolled her eyes. She knew bait when she heard it. The man was tired, grasping at straws. As someone who ran regularly, this was nothing to her. She still had a clear mind, and she knew that confirming her relationship with Regina to this ‘old friend’ would only hurt her in the long run. It was best not to toy with him any further.

Still…

“Let’s go back to these friends of yours. Who do you see working with you after it comes out that everything you have has been confiscated, and _thoroughly_ vetted? When you have no more dirt on _anyone_ , no more secrets to hide, no stashes tucked away for a rainy day?”

“Your threats are falling on deaf ears, dear girl. I’d think you better tread lightly.”

“Why would I need to tread lightly, if they’re falling on deaf ears? If an old man falls on the sidewalk, and no one’s around, does his cries fall on deaf ears? Food for thought.”

When they finally reached the station, Gold seemed complacent, merely walking alone with her, his stringy brown and gray hair covering his face. Emma, of course, was wary. Regina had also told her that when he was quiet, he was scheming. Like a fucking cartoon character, if he wasn’t wearing handcuffs, she knew he would be rubbing his fingertips together, chuckling madly to himself.

After processing him, she unlocked the cell, and he limped forward, still silent. “Something on your mind, Dark One?”

He stumbled, worse than usual, and she caught him. Leading him to the bench, she hopped back and sat on the bed across from him. She crossed her legs, grinning at him, and he stared at her with an unreadable expression. She admitted that it was an impressive stare, for his clearly out-of-breath stance.

She didn’t want to imagine him in control, with his full gravitas, and was thankful for Regina’s suggestion that it go down this way.

He was tired, and guilty, and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry?” He sounded anything but; in fact, he seemed somewhat amused.

“Nothing, it’s just what Henry calls you sometimes. ‘The Dark One’. The coward with the powers.” Henry felt the need to chime in every-so-often throughout Regina’s breakdown in the car, and Emma’s ever-demanding curiosity required her to search for a further meaning. The stumble could’ve been a coincidence – a strangely timed event. The slight twitch of his eye when she said ‘coward’, however, might’ve been something else. “You know, everyone else – except his mother – he’s created great stories for them. Everyone else has such a good heart, and they’re such good people. Snow White, Jiminy Cricket, Red Riding Hood… hell, apparently, I, the _Savior,_ just saved _Cinderella._ But you? I haven’t heard good things about _you_ , Rumple– “

He coughed loudly. “Your son has a rather active imagination, then. I’d rather not invest my time in fairy tales, Sheriff Swan. _What_ is your point?”

She stood from the bed. “Like I said. Nothing.” She closed the cell door behind her on the way out, before making it to her computer. “I think I have everything I need.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned, but she had already put her headphones in. She wasn’t quite listening to anything, but she didn’t need any distractions the haggard man could throw at her.

For a moment, Emma considered outsourcing her water, because _clearly_ , the water system in Storybrooke was compromised. She tapped her fingers on the desk, before turning on the old-style monitor.

A quick google search confirmed that Storybrooke, Maine held zero results. _Zero_. Also, it confirmed to her that the computer hadn’t been updated in many years. Almost 30, by the looks of it.

Of course, it could be her mind filling in blanks where there weren’t any, like puzzle pieces being forced into a non-existent picture, but it held some credence to the conversation she had with Henry in the car.

_“So, when is the baby due?” Emma asked, looking into the rear-view mirror to check on the heavily pregnant waitress._

_Ashley looked embarrassed. “You know, I feel like I’ve been holding her in for years. But I think she’s coming any day now.”_

_“Now that time has started up again,” Henry helpfully(?) supplied, sitting next to her in the back seat._

_Regina let out an exhausting sigh. “Henry, a pregnancy doesn’t work like that. It was just a turn of a phrase.”_

_“I know enough to think that anyone_ should _know how long they’ve been pregnant, Mom.”_

_“I’m sure Sean knows,” she said meekly, probably not liking the implied insult. “I’m not good with dates.”_

_“No one in this town is.”_

_“Henry,” Regina warned, until Emma quickly reached over, and held her hand in her own. She closed her eyes, and held her head back to the passenger seat. “I’m regretting all of this,” she whispered, giving Emma’s hand a squeeze._

_The blonde chuckled, steering the car easily with one hand, as they prepared to confront Gold about a contract._

Emma had assumed that she regretted bringing Henry with her. Now she suspected the Mayor was regretting… something else.

Was Storybrooke hiding a secret? A hundred percent yes.

Was it as something as outlandish and magical as Henry claimed it was? She thought it was too early to tell, but she was teetering on both sides of ‘maybe’.

Was she insane? Well, if she was a magical character, then abso-damn-lutely.

Was she excited about unraveling the mystery?

Her phone rang. She smiled at the personalized ringtone, that Regina would totally kill her over if she ever heard it.

 

> _I got a Black Magic Woman_  
>  _Yes, I got a Black Magic Woman_  
>  _She’s got me so blind I can’t see_  
>  _But she’s a Black Magic Woman and_  
>  _she’s trying to make a devil out of me._

She slyly glanced back at Gold, who looked to be asleep on his bed, but she walked towards the hall anyway. “Gotta work on getting an office,” she muttered, before she answered it. “Yeah?”

_“Are you alright? Did Gold do anything?”_

“Nah, he’s all old and tired out. He admitted to the crime. Among other things.”

_“…Other things?”_

“Yep. I thought you should know that he seems aware of our, ah, friendship.”

_“Shit.”_

“Wow. I kinda expected that, but is it too bad a thing?”

_“No, no, it’s just… he’ll never let me live this down. Thankfully, he can’t tell my mother.”_

“I’m sure there’s a story there.”

_“There isn’t, really. She isn’t around anymore.”_

At any other time, she would have let the subject drop – she sympathized completely with the uncomfortable topic of parents, or lack of. But this time, she had to know. “She passed away?”

_“I have no idea.”_

And _dammit_ , she wasn’t sure if her power worked over the phone. “That seems to be a common thing around us.” She looked at the clock. “How’s Ashley? Is she in labor?”

 _“She had her baby,”_ Regina suddenly whispered, _“and she’s precious. She allowed Henry to hold her.”_

“I wish I could’ve seen it.”

 _“I wish you could, too.”_ Her voice was thick, and _hopeful_ , and Emma was suddenly picturing Regina holding the baby herself. She wanted to see that, too.

She cleared her throat, and Emma could’ve sworn that Regina had the exact same thought about _her. “Come to the hospital. I’ll send pictures, but you should see this yourself. Ashley wanted to tell you something. Just ask for a Miss Boyd or a Doctor Whale when you come in.”_

“I’ll be there in four minutes. Take more pictures.”

 _“I will.”_ She was silent for a few seconds. _“Did Gold tell you anything else?”_

“Honestly? Nothing I didn’t already suspect. I’ll see you soon.” She considered asking how Gold would know that Henry was her son, but she thought better of it. That wasn’t something Regina would openly tell an old, currently hostile, friend.

 _“Okay,”_ she finally said, in a sorta resigned way she wasn’t expecting. The Mayor hung up before the she could inquire further.

Stepping into her yellow bug, Emma confronted the same question. Was she ready to look into the tale that Storybrooke had to offer, and accept whatever came next?

She didn’t know.

But she knew that whatever she believed, the closest thing she had ever found to a happy ending was waiting for her, fairy tale or not. She didn’t know where her happy ending truly was, but the hospital seemed like the _perfect_ place to start.

* * *

“Emmeline,” she whispered, cooing at the small bundle in her arms. “A beautiful name.”

“Emma for short,” Ashley smiled tiredly, her grin brightening at Emma’s surprised exclamation. “I wanted to tell you about it, but Sean put it on the certificate the second I said it. I think he likes it.”

The man in question reached over, grabbing his bedridden girlfriend’s hand. “I do,” he confirmed. He looked over to Emma. “Thank you for your help.”

Emma nodded, mindful of the baby. “Just doing my job. Henry brought it to my attention.”

Regina said nothing, standing next to her, staring down at the baby, with the softest of smiles on her peaceful face. When Emma offered to pass her along, she blanched, and stepped back. “Babies tend to fuss when I hold them,” she tried to argue.

Emma shook her head. “I don’t when you hold me,” she whispered, and Regina was so stunned at her brazenness, she allowed the bundle to be placed in her arms, instinctively holding it to herself.

Emmeline cooed, blubbered, and giggled. But when she didn’t fuss, the Mayor let out a silent breath of relief.

Emma stood back, digging her phone out of her pocket. Regina never noticed the picture being taken, her eyes and smile on the child bundled in her grasp.

With a long-held, contented sigh, she handed the girl back to her mother. Ashley bit her lip, turning her head slightly to see her boyfriend. “I, uh… if it’s not too much trouble… I wanted you two to hear us out. Sheriff? Madam Mayor?”

Regina looked a little guarded, while Emma stepped forward and put her arm on Ashley’s. “Anything.”

“I…” she stuttered, before she chuckled to herself. “You saved my life today. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he got his hands on my daughter. It was supposed to be an empty contract; I never thought I could – my pregnancy was… surprising, to say the least. I wanted to thank you both, but I don’t have anything to give. I’d like to share, though.” She smoothed back the blonde hair of her little girl’s fringe, before looking up to her two saviors. “Would you like to be Emmeline’s godmothers?”

Regina blinked, and Emma wasn’t far behind. They looked at each other, sharing expressions of surprise.

* * *

Back in the Enchanted Forest, Rumplestiltskin was notorious for his plans, and more importantly, how accurately they came to fruition.

The last several weeks was like a tectonic plate shifting. It wouldn’t be noticed until it was too late, how colossally he had fucked up.

At least, from Regina’s perspective. She didn’t really know how she got to this point, but she was sure it wouldn’t have happened, were it not for Gold’s arrogance.

How Regina found herself a Godmother of Cinderella’s baby, she couldn’t possibly say. The idea that someone _trusted_ her, _believed_ in her, thought she was _good_ to the point where they would willingly let her hold a baby in her arms, was _ludicrous._

_‘If only they knew.’_

She was in the elevator before she realized that she didn’t bring her car, and that she’d have to drop the patrol vehicle at the station. Maybe if she got there quick enough, she could call Sidney, have him drive her home. Maybe forego the station altogether, drive directly to the Manor, and call a tow truck. Of either of Emma’s cars, she didn’t imagine herself getting the _patrol car_ towed first, but she didn’t have much of a choice.

She didn’t respond to Ashley’s offer, she didn’t say anything. She just had to _leave._ She couldn’t see Emma right now. She just needed to get out of there, get some space, some distance. Emma would understand. Or she wouldn’t, and she’d ask even more questions, and –

 _‘God’_ , she realized with a start, _‘I just compromised myself.’_

Her patiently tapping foot halted, a chill running through her veins. Regina Mills, Mayor of Storybrooke and stable human being, didn’t have panic attacks and run away at the offer of being a _glorified babysitter_.

Someone who had a regretful history of being evil, a murderer, and responsible for countless orphans in her day, would respond _exactly_ the way she had.

She didn’t even _like_ hospitals. She quite hated them, actually, so why was she here? So caught up in getting Cind- _Ashley_ to the hospital, so desperate not to be forced into delivering the baby herself (because delivering a foal and a human baby were two very different things), assuaged her fear of marching through the doors. Seeing Henry holding the baby had been worth it.

Seeing Emma holding little Emmeline had been worth it. Cradling the child herself, reminded her of better days, when her son had loved her; that had been worth it.

The idea of being given that responsibility, that amount of trust, was just too much.

What’s erased from the history books, or at least Henry’s damned book, was her soft spot for children. She could never hurt a child. Their parents were fair game, and they made their choices. The Evil Queen would have called them idiots, until Regina finally realized that they were trying to protect their children from a tyrant, never knowing that she wasn’t a threat to them.

The elevator opened, and she forced herself to march forward.

“Mayor?”

She cursed under her breath, before putting on a false smile and turning around. “Doctor Whale. Did you need anything?”

He shook his head, his smile he thought was charming plastered on, making Regina involuntarily flex her fingers. “No, I just wanted to know what you planned to do to celebrate the special event?”

She fought off the urge to yell. She _would not_ yell. “Excuse me?”

“The delivery. I believe this marks the first delivery in Storybrooke in… well, I’d have to check my notes, but I don’t think I’ve ever delivered a baby before.”

“Yes, well, I will have to discuss this with Miss Boyd at a later date. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Uh, one more thing.” He leaned over in a conspiratorial manner, thankfully cautious of her space. “ _About your patient._ “

“I will arrange for pickup next week. I will have everything in order by then.” Turning on a dime, she walked as fast as she could in her knee boots. “Good day, Doctor Whale.”

He said some form of good-bye, but she was already in another place, mentally. Did she really want to do this? Did she really want to risk everything for this? She had realized an undeniable truth several weeks ago, and that was the game of advantages.

Emma had _every_ advantage over her. Advantages she didn’t know she had. Yet.

Regina couldn’t stand for that. She had to even the playing field, and she had to do it quickly. Her life – her happiness – depended on it. She just needed to get home –

“You know, I never believed in fairy tales.”

Regina stopped in her tracks, her head down. “Emma.”

“Not even when I was a kid,” she continued, stepping to her side, not even looking out of breath, for someone that must’ve taken the stairs to catch up with her. “Not like I ever got a visit from Santa, or the Tooth Fairy. Just never had the time to be a kid, I guess.” She nudged her side. “Hi.”

“I believed, once. That was a long time ago, Miss Swan.”

She hummed. “Yeah. We’ve grown up. Hard to believe in something you see so little of around you.”

“Hope?”

“Not something that cheesy,” she laughed, making Regina smile, even as she stared at the ground. A finger cupped her chin, and her head tilted until brown eyes met green. “When we’re kids, we believe in anything and everything. Now? We believe what we _want_ to believe.”

Nervous eyes fluttered back and forth. “It’s a sweet gesture, Emma. But there’s fiction, and there’s reality. _Facts_.”

“Facts? Here’s a fact. I just had a freaking kid named after me. _**Me**_! I couldn’t even raise a kid, but I’ve got one _named_ after me. Want another fact? Henry’s already calling her a little sister. So, whether you like it or not, we’re sharing two kids, now.”

Regina’s lips curled in amusement. “Dear, it doesn’t work that way.”

“Want another fact? A month ago, the idea of being responsible _terrified_ me. I could handle being alone. No one to depend on me, no one to disappoint. If I skipped town the next day, I wouldn’t even get a text or a voicemail, not even a missed call. I was alone. And now… now _that_ terrifies me.”

“Emma… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying – ” Soft lips pressed against her own, before she quickly backed away. “I’m saying that if you need to talk to me about anything, I’d be honored if you could depend on me. Trust me. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t _want_ to go anywhere.”

Regina looked paralyzed, and Emma gave a sad smile. “But only if you think you’re ready.”

“I am,” she quickly agreed, before taking a deep breath. “I am ready, Emma. But I want to earn it. I’ve dedicated so much of my life to my job and my son. _Our_ son. I need to get some affairs in order. I need time to figure some things out. I _deeply_ appreciate your help, but this has to be something that I must do – alone.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” She didn’t seem upset; resigned, maybe, like she saw this coming, yet understanding. Regina didn’t like it.

“I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I don’t know how this works. My mind is just in a… bad place. I would love your support, but I can’t… I can’t give you all of me. Not yet.”

Emma nodded, unsure. Yes, they had slept together, but she had always felt that Regina had held back around her. Always the reserved, stoic, mysterious Mayor. The few times she had seen the real, true Regina, it was a beautiful mistake. A tragically mesmerizing error that she wasn’t supposed to witness. “Of course. But remember what I said; I’m here for you. And I extend the same olive branch I did a month ago. You don’t have to do all of it alone.”

“We believe what we choose to believe, Emma.” She took the blonde’s hands in her own. “And before I choose you, I want to choose to get better. I cancelled Henry’s appointment with Doctor Hopper, because I’ve decided to take the appointments myself.”

Emma’s mouth clicked open in shock, and Regina chuckled, gently tipping the Sheriff’s jaw shut. “I don’t need your pity, Emma. But I do crave your companionship. I have moments I’m not proud of. Anger issues, trust issues that you might have witnessed. Henry might never have seen them, but… well, he does call me the Evil Queen.”

The Sheriff made a sigh of resignation, before chuckling. “And I guess you don’t want to take into account that he calls me the Savior? That I’m supposed to be here to help?”

“You are. Don’t for a second think that you’re not helping. You’re inspiring me to be better, Emma.”

“It doesn’t feel like that’s enough.”

“It’s all you can do, my Savior.” Leaning forward, she pressed a final kiss to Emma’s cheek, before she reluctantly let go of her hands. “I believe it’s time we both got back to work, Sheriff Swan.”

“Right away… My Queen.”

She stumbled, and Emma was quick to grab her waist again. “You like it when Henry does it,” she commented, and Regina’s eyes widened in recognition, her flush rising in her cheeks. “I’ll go tear our son away from our Goddaughter,” she whispered, and Regina dumbly nodded. Emma floated away, grinning, until she turned to push open the doors to the building.

And the Mayor was left alone with her thoughts, once again.

Emma had proven, yet again, that she had every advantage against her. Sometimes, Regina didn’t mind that one bit.

But she knew she wanted to get better before she could accept her happiness. She had made a lot of mistakes, and if she wanted her son’s love, and Emma’s heart, she had a few sacrifices to make.

She needed to visit the vault. And then, she needed to make a call to Sidney.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to RonisGirlSQ and Ship_Wrecked for your comments, Thanks to HedaKaraZorEl (HedaLexaAf) for your kudos, and thanks to RacS for both!
> 
> Heavy Spoiler: They'll get back together. I believe in love, so maybe I'm hopeful.
> 
> This chapter is very loosely based on the events in the episode in which Rumple has a contract for the first-born child of Cinderella, and that somehow carries into the real-word, and isn't activated for another twenty-eight years for some reason (technically, ten years and a month) (S01, E04). Man, the rules of this curse was not explained well, or I'm misreading it. They changed some of the elements of the curse and how it works in the seventh season, and didn't say anything like 'forced to live the same day for 18 years' like Groundhog Day.
> 
> Essentially, writing about Emmalina is writing the epilogue to a past already recorded. Emmalina is the end game, and kinda the middle-game, too. Emmalina is preparing something big, so we'll slow-build it, but the highlight right now is Emma and Regina, apart, together, and the fun in between.
> 
> So, some stuff has changed in this revised history (I warned you), and it will only change further, while important canon stuff still happens - somehow. I'm just as curious as you are on how this turns out.
> 
> I hope you're all enjoying this so far. Please tell me in your reviews!


	7. A Miner Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma is one step closer to discovering the truth. Regina learns of a rather interesting non-fact, but she’s happy to play along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Summary:** Emma is one step closer to discovering the truth. Regina learns of a rather interesting non-fact, but she's happy to play along.  
>  Special Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma, AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thank you.

Two months after her arrival, the people of Storybrooke knew that there was a new sheriff in town.

Graham was gone, officially, and Emma had been working alone for a week. A rumor had gone around that Emma had never even met Graham. Of course, the two had met – she had to pick up the gun and badge from someone, and Regina didn’t have a drawer full of those on her own person.

He looked happy to get out of town, and completely uninterested in anything else. The badge seemed like it was cursed to him, which did not help her suspicions one bit. He had offered a uniform, but she immediately turned it down – she didn’t see the point of filling up her closet of clothes she’d never wear. The red leather jacket became the standard uniform to look for, and the symbol of the law from a distance; something Leroy was quick to realize when he was in one of his moods.

“Where was he this time?”

Emma bit into her grilled cheese sandwich slowly, smiling contentedly, before responding to Ruby. “The Rabbit Hole. _Again_. For a half-pint, he really knows how to put it away.”

“But apparently, he can still get twice as drunk as a normal-sized man.” Ruby grinned, swiping a fry from her basket.

“Hey!” Emma looked horrified. “I deserve a refund! You can’t cook my meal and take it away. I paid for this!”

“Oh please, I gave you too much to begin with. I don’t need you throwing your badge around.”

She made a non-committal grunt. “Steal another fry and I’ll put you in a cell next to Gold.”

The waitress shuddered, while Emma took a sip of her chocolate shake, keeping an eye on her food.

Emma and Regina had agreed on keeping some distance between each other, for the time being, and so far, it was… working. Not working well, for her anyway. They still met on official business, and the occasional circumstance where Henry would be picked up by Emma while Regina made her therapy sessions.

She worried for the mayor, and she offered her help whenever she could, but the brunette turned her away at every chance, barely allowing spiritual support.

Emma had busied herself exploring the small, remote town, and she wasn’t disappointed by what she had discovered.

Nicholas and Ava, two little troublemakers that reminded her _far_ too much of a younger Lily and herself, had tried to get Henry in trouble at the gas station, and it probably would’ve worked if she didn’t see them sneak the candy bar in the bag with the same subtlety she had when she was ten. She was betting they were waiting for Henry to cause a distraction for them to take much more. They had empty backpacks – another thing she and Lily did – and disheveled clothes.

After some, admittedly, very convincing lying, she found that their mother had passed, so after a quick stop at the diner, she and Henry set out on a journey to find the children’s unknown father.

It was easier than expected. And how they did it screwed up Emma in a frightful way.

Henry quickly deduced that they were Hansel and Gretel, and said their father was a woodsman. Emma hesitated to dismiss him out of hand, speculating that there wasn’t such a high demand for a woodsman in a town, and besides, the breadcrumbs must have been eaten up by then.

He suggested the man who owned the wood shop, but Emma countered that there was only one wood shop in town, and Marco couldn’t be both Geppetto and the woodsman. Henry considered this seriously, while Emma rolled her eyes, and the siblings just stared at them from the back of the bug, looking like they were considering running away again. Luckily, they were in a two-door, but she kept a close eye on them – in case they decided to open the trunk hatch from the inside and roll out. It’s what she would’ve done.

The sheriff, on a hunch, and with no clues other than an old compass left to them by their mother, took them to Gold’s Shop. The trinkets in the shop were set for auction or return, having been inspected thoroughly by Emma, Henry, and after tentative request, Regina.

She seemed interested in a few things there, but she didn’t take much. Emma wasn’t even sure of most of the trinkets, liquids, books in different dialects, they were looking at, and she had a plethora of questions, and Regina tried to be accommodating. The bottles of body parts were self-explanatory, but none of them looked human at first glance, so she couldn’t do anything about it.

When she and the children had arrived at the pawn shop, it was _noticeably_ emptier.

She wasn’t too surprised. If Ashley managed to steal from him, a heavily pregnant woman sneaking in and out, then anything was possible. Henry scoffed at her supposed ignorance, and searched through the store again, all the while considering the benefits of a woodsman in the twenty-first century.

Nicholas and Ava had become part of Henry’s scheme after a moment, or they were just indulging him, and suggested some occupations; lumberjack, repairman, plumber, florist, and mechanic being the top choices.

Emma started to regret the entire idea when the three began pestering her to go to their locations, based on complete guesswork regarding fantasy.

It made as much sense as trying to find anything else in this town, but she was willing to play along. Today, like the others, were slow, so she could drive the kids around for a bit, before she was forced to take them to some foster care system out of town.

She hadn’t considered that. She didn’t _want_ to consider that in her job, she was required to report lost children, and give them over to a system that she herself went through.

Not if she could help it.

She eyed the siblings listening attentively to Henry’s explanation of the clock tower’s sudden motion, asking questions not in a dismissive way, but with intrigue and curiosity.

Today, they were allowed to be kids. They were allowed to dream, even for a moment. They could follow their imagination.

Thank God for taxpayer gas money.

Emma leaned against the counter, tilting her head at Henry’s wide grin as he began to weave the tale of Rumplestiltskin. Some kids could tell a story, some couldn’t, but were very animated about it. Henry was going to be quite the tale spinner one day, she could tell.

She didn’t believe Henry’s words, but the way he told it, the way his eyes lit up, knowing that he believed in it with all his heart – she wished she did. She wished she could. She _wanted_ to believe.

Remembering what she had come for, she went to the backroom, now easier to roam through, now that Regina – or rather, someone who might have had an interest in these things and knew it was unprotected and probably had access to a key – cleaned the place out. Less paperwork and less moving shit around, and nothing illegal, so she didn’t _really_ have a problem with it.

Perks of being the _only officer in town_.

She came across a locked door in the back of the room, and pulled out a hairpin from her pocket. She made quick work of the door, looking back to make sure Henry couldn’t see her. They hadn’t looked through this room at all yet, Emma not too keen on showing Henry that she could pick a lock, and not willing to share with Regina _all_ of her criminal history. At least, not until she taught her how, on a future date.

She came upon a bedroom, and that answered the question of where he lived. It wasn’t the junky pigsty she had almost expected, but… the man was certainly a hoarder. Shoe boxes upon shoe boxes of anything but shoes, vials and tree roots and string and… a spinning wheel? _‘Who the hell has a spinning wheel?’_

It was under his pillow that she found it – a small book, filled with details and records of his trades. He found a picture of the compass – apparently, he had wanted the trinket, as it could ‘lead you home,’ whatever that meant. He had last tracked it to a _mechanic._

Emma’s lips quirked. How… odd.

She was almost out the door, when a massive _thunk_ sounded behind her. Whirling around, unfastening the gun at her side but not drawn, she looked around for the source.

Lying on the middle of the otherwise undisturbed bed, perfectly set and covered with dust, a leather-bound book waited for her.

 _Once Upon a Time_ , the book said on the front, and she’d be damned if she said her day couldn’t have gotten any weirder.

“Ruby! Table Four!”

“In a minute, Granny!” She turned back to Emma, her eyes wide. “So? What happened next?” The tall brunette waitress had gotten invested in the children’s well-being after she served them, and Emma had briefly told her what she was doing before they left to find their father.

She sucked the milkshake down through her straw, and after silent acceptance that there was none left, she pushed the glass across the smooth tabletop, which the brunette caught. “We found him. The mechanic. The compass started working when we found him, too.”

“Wow… that’s – ”

“Yeah.” She flashed a grin. “Poetic.”

“I was gonna say ‘convenient’, but that works too. So, you found Henry’s book?”

“No, actually. It’s a completely different book. This one seems to feature our Mayor prominently; the biography of the _Evil Queen_. So, we either have a stalker who has complicated feelings for her – and I completely understand where they’re coming from – or I’m really in the Twilight Zone.”

“So you’re starting to believe Henry’s tall tales?”

“I don’t know what to believe. What do you think?”

“Well… I think that I don’t turn into a wolf at night. I think that Mary Margaret wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less know how to use a bow and arrow. Doctor Hopper doesn’t look like a cricket, nor does he look like he can jump very high.” She caught Emma’s raised eyebrow, and responded with one of her own. “I had to hear all of this when the old Sheriff brought in Henry after school. I don’t see much of her, but when I do, I have to doubt everything Henry says, the way she looks at him. ‘Cause when he starts talking about how evil she is… he’s just _wrong_. You know how he talks about her. I’m surprised she isn’t trying to give him back to you right now.”

“Hey! That’s still my son you’re talking about!”

She gave her a look. “Figure it out, Emma. Either believe him or don’t, because that kid is on an island. He’ll either be more sure of himself and keep spiraling, or you break his spirit.” She nicked another fry, and this time, Emma was too shocked at her words to pay it any attention. “And look, I’m not saying this town isn’t weird. It is. Either way, it’s something that needs to be fixed. Thank God I’m not the savior, or I’d be hearing about this shit non-stop.” Her nose twitched. “Gotta go – I smell some patties that need to be flipped.”

Emma caught Ruby’s arm as she slid out of the booth. “Hold on – you’ll think about what we talked about before?”

Ruby nodded. “Already did. I’ll give Granny my two weeks notice.”

Emma smiled gratefully, and Ruby smiled back in return, before she left towards the back. Sitting back in the booth, she sucked in a silent breath of relief.

“What was that all about?”

She smiled, her eyes closed, but she could recognize that voice anywhere. “What do you think it was?”

She felt her slide into the booth, where Ruby just vacated. “I believe Miss Lucas was the one who flirted with you the first night in, and followed up on it just now.”

“You’re half-right.” She opened her eyes, and the way she smiled at her relieved Regina of any misconceptions. “I told her I was spoken for, and she’s accepted that since.”

“But… you talked to her before we – ”

“I called my shot.” She smiled demurely around her fry. “I know you usually get a salad, but you should really try their fries. Especially dipped in chocolate shake. They’re _glorious_.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It can’t taste that good.”

“I think it’s the salty crispness, combined with the sweet, uh, texture?”

“If you say so. I see that your paycheck is well-contributed into the captivating mysteries of Storybrooke.”

Emma rolled her eyes, holding out her half-eaten french fry. “Just eat the damn fry.”

“Miss Swan, I won’t touch that fatty lipid sponge if you held me down and – ” she stopped herself, watching Emma’s curious green eyes smoldering, _begging_ her to continue. “No.”

“Oh, _go on_. I wanted to hear how I might convince you. I mean, I know all your tickle spots.”

“Emma… please stop that.”

She tilted her head. “Just a little harmless flirting, Mayor. I’m single, I reserve the right to mingle.”

Regina bit her lip. “I don’t see it that way. I hope you didn’t.”

“You call it a break, and that’s how I’m treating it. We can still be friends.”

“Yes, we can. But,” her fingers slipped forward to Emma’s free hand on the table, fingertips touching, “just understand that this is a process for me. I’m not used to this. That’s what the therapy is for.”

“Hey, I get it. I understand.” She smirked. “Maybe I need to see a shrink. I never went through a proper evaluation to become Sheriff. I never even went to school, you know.”

“I’m sure your sanity has never been in question. You seem to be doing a significant job thus far.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” She plucked the last fry from Emma’s basket, and inspected it closely. “But I must question your diet.”

“Well, running every day helps me eat this crap. As you have no doubt noticed, I have a good metabolism. I used to lift from time to time, but there doesn’t seem to be a gym here.”

“You have not done your research, Sheriff. There is a gym, on Distance Drive. I believe it’s called the… _Greek Goat_?”

“Huh. I guess I’ll look that up.” She eyed the fry in her friend’s hand, unblinking. “Gonna eat that?”

“Honestly, Miss Swan, you just talked about going to a gym, and you just had a basket of these. One more won’t…” Emma licked her lips. Regina blinked, and pursed her own. After a few tense seconds, eyeing the rather limp potato stick, she flicked the fry into her mouth, before chewing slowly, strictly for her own benefit of the salty crispness. The hungry way Emma looked at _her_ was a bonus.

“That was a pro move,” Emma commented, smirking. “I thought you didn’t eat fries.”

She swallowed. “Cheat days never count, dear.”

“You cheated my cheat day.”

“So arrest me.”

“Tempting,” she whispered, “but I have to meet up with Mary Margaret. Something about some candles.”

“Yes, I heard,” she groaned, her cheerful attitude instantly impeded by the topic of the insufferable teacher. Even with an innocuous life and a mediocre job, she had proven to be just as much of an annoyance as when she was aiming arrows at her head. “The nuns came to me last week about continuing Miner’s Day. It’s a rather dated tradition, where the convent sells candles for charity, and trade with the miners for coal, for some odd reason. I assume you’ll be going to the park?”

“Yup. Wanna come with?” At the brunette’s noticeable hesitation, she bit her lip. “I know you two don’t get along, but… she’s been in a real funk lately. I think she needs to get laid, but that might make her sadder.”

Regina creased her eyebrows. “Why would Miss Blanchard be depressed? She seemed fine when I picked up Henry two days ago.”

“Well, _yeah_ , teachers can’t look miserable at an elementary school, around their students. But I personally get to hear about how ‘independent’, and ‘single’, and ‘alone’ she is, and her adjectives depend on how late in the night it is, and she just goes _on and on_ about how I managed to find someone a week after I get here – ”

“Wait. Emma, you told Miss _Blanchard_ about us?” Her tone was accusing, but her eyes told Emma that she felt betrayed, in some way.

“What? I know we were lowkey, but… I couldn’t tell anyone?”

“… I didn’t.”

“Why?”

She looked at her like an honest alien, as if she had just admitted that she was a witch herself. “My position and standing in the community, Emma! I _told_ you she spread a rumor about me once.”

“That was after I already told her. She’s my roommate! Besides, when I tell her to pick up Henry at your house if we’re not back by morning, I feel like she could’ve put the pieces together. And she didn’t tell anyone – hell, you’re just finding out that she knew, and that was from _my_ big mouth.” She took a deep breath. “I know you don’t trust her. And by the time you told me that, she already knew. Sorry about that, okay? But it’s over.”

“It’s not,” Regina said quickly, before she could even stop herself. “It’s not over. It’s a pause. But it _happened._ We have a history, Emma. You’re the sheriff, and you’re new. Neither of us need your reputation tarnished so quickly. I’m just…”

“Protective. I know. I appreciate it. I have the right to be protective of you, too. It’s my job, in every sense.” She grinned. “And I don’t want you to be afraid of yourself, or of us. Then or now.”

“I’m not,” she admitted, and with the way Emma smiled at her, she wondered all over again why she had to do what she did, pausing their relationship. And immediately, her own question was answered. She didn’t have a choice.

She knew that when the end came, everything she had been working for – everything that she gambled on, and believed in – would be worth it.

She squeezed Emma’s hand, and with a start, realized she had never let go of it for the past few minutes. Reluctantly, she pulled it back. “I’ll come with you,” she finally agreed. “but only because I haven’t made an appearance yet, and I need to make sure Mother Superior followed regulation correctly. For someone so conservative, she seems rather liberal when it comes to my instructions.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Hold on – you have a problem with the freaking _nuns_?”

“You’ll find that quite a few people have a problem with _me_. I’ve been unopposed for over a decade. If anyone could be right to replace me, or present viable competition, it would be Mother Superior. But she can’t hold both positions, and she would never betray her cloth. She never really accepted that fact, and she resents me for it.”

“So you just want to come with me to antagonize her?”

“Of course not, Sheriff! I merely want to antagonize Mary Margaret. Mother Superior, if she so happens to be there, wouldn’t be an inconvenience for me.” She blinked wholly innocent eyes, but it was ruined by the smirk that Emma was sure she didn’t know was there, subconsciously.

“Fine, fine. But, I guess I should tell you – its only fair, since I somehow broke your rules about dating etiquette.” She swung herself around the booth, and whispered something into Regina’s ear.

She blinked, and when she returned to the table, even Ruby was intimidated by the wolf’s grin that split her face. “Oh, _really_.”

* * *

Miner’s Day was setting up to be a simple affair. The booths were plentiful, and the games seemed to be doing well. Archie waved at the two as he sat on a plank over a giant tub of water, his other hand pinching his nose, in case someone’s aim was true.

Truly, it was the first time The Mayor and the Sheriff wandered about together, in a very public setting. Emma’s hands slid against the back of Regina’s, and she couldn’t bring herself to stop the blonde. In fact, she found herself returning the favor, subtly rocking into her, her arm brushing against the leather jacket in an overtly friendly gesture. Emma commented that it looked more like she was staggering drunk, and the Mayor only rolled her eyes.

Emma stoically looked ahead, averting her eyes when a nun wandered by – Astrid, if she remembered correctly – calling out for Leroy. “I meant to let him out for the festival tonight,” she explained softly. “But I need to look out for him. Lucky they don’t serve alcohol here.”

“If anyone does, simply arrest them. It was one of my conditions. That man tries to sneak a cooler into this event every year.”

Hearing a splash, they looked behind them to see Archie laughing as he was dunked in the water. “You ever tried that?”

She grimaced. “Throwing, yes. My aim is decent when it needs to be. But if I was sitting on that plank, they wouldn’t require the need for funding for a few years at the least.”

Emma frowned at the implications of that statement. “I don’t know if you noticed, but no one seems to be looking at you with fear, or hate. I don’t see any hostility here. Honestly, they just look surprised that you’re here.”

Indeed, she was right. As the two walked down through the moderately busy aisle, some stopped whatever they were doing to stare, or to move out of the way, but no one looked particularly afraid of her. Ava and Nicholas ran up to greet Emma, and after verifying that, _yes_ , they were with their father this time, bowed respectfully to Regina before running off.

“Maybe I’ll try the dunk tank,” Emma commented aloud. “Next year. I might have a reputation by then.”

“A pair of children just came up and hugged you. You’re going to have to try for a harder reputation than that.”

“Oh! Emma! Madam Mayor!”

An instinctual scowl appeared on the brunette’s face, before she masked it with a smile. Emma took note of the features of her fake smile, before they both turned around to greet the school-teacher. “Mary Margaret! I see the festival is going well?”

“Better than any other year! I’m surprised we made enough candles!” Her bright smile was famously infectious, but it didn’t inspire Regina’s to be any more genuine.

“That’s nice.” She might have sounded pleased, but Emma could hear the strain in her voice. “Is Henry here?”

“Oh, of course! He just dunked Archie. He has a heck of an arm.”

Emma looked smug, while Regina blinked at the information. “He does? He never seemed very interested in sports.”

“We play catch on occasion,” Emma admitted softly, and Regina snapped to her with a bewildered expression. “He _might_ want to join the baseball team. He was gonna tell you about it. I guess it slipped his mind.”

“I guess it did,” she muttered, and turned to the teacher again. “So, you’ll be selling candles until midnight, I suppose?”

“If we don’t run out by then, yeah. Henry doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

“He’ll do anything to stay out of the house,” she said in a cheerful manner, which Emma deduced was entirely sarcastic. “I believe the sheriff and I will take two.”

“I already bought one,” Emma began, and Regina gave her a look. “But hey, I’m not a fireman; what’s a little safety hazard? We’ll take four.”

The glare she got in return was worth the hit on her wallet, and she pulled out a crisp twenty. “To the Nuns and the Miners. May they – whatever the hell they’re doing together.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda getting lost over the details of this thing, too.” The pale woman chuckled, opening her basket. “But everyone’s having fun. This town doesn’t usually do carnivals, or fairs, or concerts, so why not do all in one?”

Regina pursed her lips. “Concerts?”

“Oh! They didn’t tell you?”

“That seems to be a recurring theme here, Miss Blanchard.”

Her smile dropped a little, and in any other scenario, Regina’s would have brightened. “Well, it was one of the things the nuns were supposed to pitch to you. I thought you were the one that approved the sound equipment, and the building of the stage… well, the miners decided to start a band.”

Regina’s jaw dropped. Emma cackled.

Mary Margaret had the gall to be embarrassed, holding her basket of candles awkwardly. “Oh! That reminds me. Have either of you seen Leroy? He’s running late, and he’s supposed to be their drummer!”

Suddenly, Emma commiserated with Leroy’s need to drink.

* * *

The band – ‘A-Miner,’ they shamelessly called themselves – was immensely relieved when Regina ultimately decided not to pull the plug on their entire performance. She had every right to, as well; The fair took up the park itself, and the band, _apparently_ , was a last minute addition. So, in a fit of worldly inspiration, someone had the bright idea to block the whole street with the stage.

Regina pinched her nose, feeling a dull ache in her head forming. _Idiots_ , the lot of them.

Both Henry and Emma seemed to be excited about the performance, and that was their one saving grace. Fining them at a charity event didn’t seem to be the right thing to do, and it was far too late to move the stage, so she decided to waive the incident entirely, and come up with a way to punish them later. Perhaps an unpaid leave from the mines was in order?

In the end, Emma decided that their punishment depended solely on their performance. If it sucked, then so would the consequences.

Personally, Regina assumed that by tomorrow, Emma would announce that their heads would be chopped off, going by the creativity of their name alone.

She cringed when Blanchard asked if she could introduce the band on stage.

“Miss Blanchard,” she began, her eyes narrowed, and the pale woman flinched. She pursed her lips. “I appreciate the offer,” she said suddenly, and the woman flinched for an entirely different reason.

“You do? Really?”

“Oh, don’t be too surprised, Mary Margaret. I’m looking forward to hearing them play.” She smiled, sincerely. “I’ve never heard them before. They could be a refreshing new sound for my _virgin_ ears.”

She nodded. “I’ve heard them. They’re actually pretty good, when they’re all on the same page. They work well together, but playing… it’s new to them.”

“Yes, I find that new experiences take a bit of practice. It takes time to get it right. I would bet the _first time_ they played was _painful_ to hear.”

She smirked as Mary Margaret started to blush, and pressed on. “I wonder, do they swear in their songs? I hope Leroy doesn’t have any authority over their lyrics. I’d rather keep Henry _untouched_ by such vulgarity in music, for a few years yet. _Innocence_ is a precious thing… in a _child_ , you see.”

Mary Margaret cleared her throat, her face a contrast to her forgotten alias. “B-but Emma curses all the time in front of Henry!”

“I’m not asking the mother of my child to censor herself in front of her own son, Miss Blanchard. Besides, music with inappropriate language tend to leave a bigger imprint. The way it _touches_ a pure mind, corrupts you in a way that you’ve – likely – never known.”

She sputtered. “I’ve heard swear words in music, Mayor.”

She made a little hum. “I’m sure, dear. But have you ever let it _take_ you? Let it _sink_ into you? The rhythm can be quite _sensual_ in some respects.” Brown eyes sunk into nervous hazel ones, and the timid school teacher couldn’t look away. “I find it’s quite exciting. Music can be rather _intimate_ , don’t you think?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Hm. Well, I hope that one day, you will. Maybe you will find the right genre you might truly love. Sometimes, I can be a melomaniac. Emma understands my particular taste.” She checked her watch. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to the office for some last minute business; detour signs need to be placed around this area, thanks to this ridiculous stage. I may be able to catch the end of the performance, when I pick Henry up. I entrust you with my son for the next few hours. Please don’t blow it.” She smiled brightly, her teeth gleaming and slightly predatory. “But I have not known you to blow anything before. I’m sure you don’t even know how to.” She paused, purposefully. “You are my son’s favorite teacher, you know. Even when you foolishly left your credit card unattended, he didn’t buy so much as a bar of candy when he left the state to find his birth mother. Consider that payment for the book you gave him, that put him in therapy.”

Mary Margaret worked her jaw, before snapping it shut.

“I must be on my way,” Regina concluded, and turned away. “Thank you for the candles. I’m sure Emma and I will enjoy the cinnamon ones. Do try to enjoy yourself tonight, Miss Blanchard. You’ve been overworking yourself. Try to loosen up, will you, dear?”

No one could see Regina’s devious smile, until Emma sidled up to her. “ _Wow_.”

“Wow, what?”

“You gave Mary Margaret quite the pounding over there. I’m jealous.”

“Oh? How much did you hear?”

“I tuned in around the time you started referring to music as a penis. Think she's a fan of _Hard Rock_?”

She chuckled. “How long do you think it took for her to catch on to my innuendos?”

“I shouldn’t have told you anything,” she muttered, looking ahead as they walked. “I shouldn’t have told you she was a virgin. Goddamn my misguided sense of balance and fairness! Not _once_ , did she tell anyone about our relationship, and you just went right in on her, no lube, and, it was kinda relentless. Kinda hot.”

“So you enjoyed it.”

“That’s not the point, Regina! That was a secret she told me in confidence! I mean, she’s depressed, for God’s sake!”

“I was just amusing the girl. I didn’t divulge to anyone her squeaky clean secret.”

“You call her a girl, but she’s my age.”

Regina shrugged, brushing her hand against Emma’s again. “I know _you’re_ not a virgin, Sheriff. I can hardly see her as a grown woman again.”

“Really? That’s your criteria? Because from what you told me, I basically popped your cherry.”

Regina leaned against Emma’s shoulder, rolling her eyes as she did so. “Your arrogance knows no boundaries, Emma. But… yes. Basically.”

There was no one around, walking through the empty streets of Storybrooke. The Mayor’s office was in walking distance from the diner and the park, so neither saw the point in driving around since they met up at Granny’s.

And even though they weren’t _supposed_ to be doing stuff like this, because _space_ and all, Emma’s arm found its way around Regina’s waist, and the motion felt so natural, she just _couldn’t_ chastise her for it.

Emma felt a sad understanding for her friend. She had been told a version of Regina’s past – how she was married off at a young age, how she was raised in the old ways, where certain practices were expected, and responsibilities were burdened on the undeserving. She was told of a boyfriend that was tragically killed, and how it made her accept her fate that much faster. She was told of her eventual escape, and her rise to the position she had come to, despite her deep-seeded _hatred_ and _shame_ at herself, and the eventual acceptance, and perhaps, _desire_ to join Daniel on the other side.

That was Regina’s version of events, and Emma accepted that.

The Storybook she found told a very different, yet terrifyingly similar story, and Emma accepted that, too.

Regina hadn’t lied. She omitted the rather unbelievable parts, but it told the same tragic story, with an untold tale of revenge. That was the problem with reading a book – she couldn’t tell if it was lying to her.

“How’s the therapy going?”

Regina tensed, and Emma rubbed small circles in her side. “He wants you to be there.”

“Okay.” Incredulous eyes turned meet a gentle smile. “You seriously thought I might say no?”

“My problems are my own, Emma.”

“Yeah, sure. But it’s Archie’s job to help you. And it’s my job to support you. You’re still my friend. And if you need me, to help get you to a better place, then I’d feel like a piece of shit if I didn’t help. Not that I’d ever say no, of course. You’d help _me._ Right?”

“I would,” she admitted, without hesitation. “But you’re relatively sane, despite your eccentricity, most times _.”_

“You love it.”

“I might. And that alone calls the need for shock therapy.”

“Eventually, he’s going to ask for Henry to attend, as well.” When she said nothing, Emma continued. “I don’t know who you want in that room first, but I want to be in that room, with you. It might be too much for Henry. But it’s totally up to you. He might not need the therapy, but he _needs_ to talk to you.”

“You don’t think I know that?” She hissed, frustration slipping through.

“I don’t think you know that you shouldn’t have to do it _alone_.”

They stood still on the sidewalk, across from the Town Hall, but the brunette clung onto the blonde, not quite willing to let go.

Emma maneuvered to circle her arms around her friend, feeling the tense woman relax into her like she had been waiting to do so all her life. It was comfortable – it felt _right._

“When truths come out,” Regina whispered, “I hope you aren’t too afraid of what you might discover.”

Emma crafted her next words carefully. “When truths come out, I know I’ve met someone who did everything she could to atone for her past. Your son will be proud of you, and I will never judge you.”

“Spoken like a savior. Of a sort.”

She chuckled. “Nah. I just don’t think that’s my style. I don’t think we’re born into a mold.”

“How do you justify that statement, and also hold a badge?”

“Easy. I’m just trying to get on your good side.” She swept the short brown hair back, and placed a kiss on her temple. “And Henry’s.”

“I should never have put him into therapy. He deserves to know… to know that I’m sorry.”

“He does. You raised something special in that kid. Even if he doesn’t know why, he just – he just knows. It’s insane. You didn’t just suddenly go wrong because he found a book. He’ll find his way back. I know I did.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, wistfully. “If everything I’m learning about this town is true… that makes a lot of things in my life make a whole lot more sense. Some things I can just assume is New York Fever, but some things I could never explain. Like the lady that pulled me in front of a bus once. She was a nut. And the guy that caught me stealing candy at a movie theater – which, let’s face it, is totally justifiable, they’re stealing from us at this point – and he started talking about doing bad things will probably kill me, and pulling a sword from a stone.” She sighed again, but it was more depressing than the last. “I swear, sometimes I think the world is sane, and I’m crazy.”

“Two peas in a pod, as they say.” She held up their conjoined hands. “Wednesday at Noon?”

“I’ll be there. I’ll get Ruby to take my shift.”

“I knew it!” she smirked. “So you _did_ take her on as deputy.”

“Temporary. We’re just seeing how this will work. Not everyone’s cut out for it, and waitressing is all she’s known. The girl runs like she was on the track team, I swear. I can spare a couple of hours, but I’ll need to go back before she realizes I’m dumping all of my responsibilities on her to be with you.”

“You have my gratitude.” With weak, reluctant arms, she pulled away from Emma’s embrace. “I really do appreciate it. Have a pleasant evening, Miss Swan.”

“Not that pleasant. I still have to deal with Leroy. He can be a real grouch, sometimes. And, if you’re not doing anything later, I’d like someone to cringe with during the concert.”

“I’ll bring extra earplugs, should we have the need.” She walked towards the Town Hall, before she stopped, and turned around. “Emma, if Mary Margaret gives you any guff for what I did today, just know that there will always be a room for you on Mifflin Street.”

She didn’t clarify which room that would be, and Emma didn’t seem keen on asking for clarification. She grinned, and waved, before making her way down the sidewalk, a small pep in her step. Regina took a moment to stare at the retreating figure, biting her lip, before turning towards the Town Hall to put some last minute plans together, already missing her Sheriff’s hands. _‘And she wonders why I try – tried – to distance myself.’_

As expected, when she opened the door to her office, her ever loyal slave was waiting for her, sitting in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “Sidney.”

He hopped out of the chair and turned to her. “Madam Mayor,” he nodded, tipping his cap. “A pleasure. I take it you have a job for me.”

“Over a hundred, actually.” She went to the table at the side of the room, placing a scented candle next to her cappuccino machine. “But for now, I have a single task for you to complete.”

He said nothing, waiting for her to sit at the chair behind her desk. She finally did, not yet willing to truly relax and take off her shoes until she was finished with business. “As you no doubt have reported, Gold has been arrested by our Sheriff. That may cause problems for her in the long term, but for now, I have liberated a few objects of any worth in his shop. When he finds a way out, he’ll be desperate, angry, and quite vengeful. I won’t allow anything to happen to our Sheriff. When the time comes, I’ll need you, ready to report.”

He squirmed in his seat. “You want me… to follow… Mister Gold?”

“No, of course not.” She waved off the idea like she didn’t even consider it a viable option. “I want you to follow Sheriff Swan. Mister Gold has connections, and he may try to kill to escape, and if he fails in bringing her any harm, he won’t stop trying. I need you to watch him, yes, but if he does anything unusual, steer clear of him. Only report.”

“Understood,” he nodded, leaning back in the chair, his beady eyes scrutinizing. “But why? We both know who the sheriff is. Why do you want to protect her?”

“Sometimes, I wonder that myself. I ask that more than you could imagine. But when I find the answer to your pressing question, I promise you won’t be the first to know.” She steepled her fingers. “Do not pry into her personal life, Glass. You’ll find that Miss Swan and I may appear quite close. Do not question it. Don’t question _me._ “

He gulped, feeling the burning gaze of the woman once known as the Evil Queen, a woman he thought he loved, but grew to hate with the same passion. “Understood, Madam Mayor.”

“Good.” She allowed herself a devious grin. “Now, I understand that Storybrooke has had yet another new, uninvited guest…”

**~Present Day~**

Emmalina placed the last scrap of paper in her pouch, tying the golden string to her waist. “ _There_ , I think that should do it.” She clapped her gloved hands together. “So, I have a hunch for what you might want, but I need you to say it – verbally.”

Isaac Heller, formerly known as the Author, hesitated. “A-anything?”

“Anything within my power. So… yeah, anything.”

“And what about the, um, ‘price’, that must be paid?”

“Well, you already paid it. You did me a great service. I would thank you, but I feel generous. So – what do you want? Money? Fame? Perhaps you want the world to believe that your books are slightly less popular than the Bible?”

“You can _do_ that?”

“Of course, dear. That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“I don’t get it. Why did you make me do this? Why didn’t _Henry_ do this?”

“Henry’s a stickler for the rules, and as you’ve shown, you’re morally dubious. And, the Writer can’t also be the Dark One. It’s one of those weird rules.” She crossed her arms. “Well, Mister Heller?”

“I…” he licked his lips. “Can you change the past?”

“No.” She allowed him an uncomfortable amount of time to be disappointed, before she continued. “I can, however, create an alternate past… which aligns with my plans in a downright unnervingly perfect way.”

“Did you arrange for that?”

She gave a noncommittal hum. “I told you I knew what you wanted. Just say it aloud.”

He took a deep breath, and made his wish.

Instantly, a white cloud descended upon them both, and by the time it dissipated, the dingy apartment room was lifeless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to RonisGirlSQ, Ship_Wrecked, and RacS for your comments, and to Zooper for your comment and kudos! I read all of my comments, so if you have a question, I'll answer it if I can~
> 
>  **Next Chapter:** Timeline-wise, we're approaching Christmas, and I was prepared to ignore and gloss over it, but I decided not to. Christmas is where the magic happens, so prepare for some freaking magic, people!
> 
> Remember when I said this will be a short crack-fic? I was so naïve.


	8. Love, Trust, and Unity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Queen with an open heart, and a calculating mind. The Prince that believes. The Princess that yearns for a family of her own. Three Strengths, Three Weaknesses.  
> But hey, that's family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Dedications:** Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thank you for your support.
> 
> Please enjoy.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Henry spun around, hand to his chest as he gasped in surprise. “Emma!”

She grinned a toothy grin, laying against the yellow slide. “Henry.”

Even in the sea breeze, she could see he was embarrassed. “Uh, hey. How did you find me?”

“Hunting people down is what I do, kid. Especially people who want to hide.” She made a show of glancing around, spying the cooler than usual ocean waves of the beachfront. “Nice little niche you’ve carved for yourself right here. You’ll have to give me the number of your realtor. Anyway, I’m just here to check on you. It’s December, don’t ya know.”

Henry grinned, gesturing to his puffy brown coat. “I’m good, Emma. I just wanted to get away for a little bit.”

“If you were trying to hide, this is a … ‘last place she would expect’ kinda place, in December. _Were_ you trying to hide?”

He didn’t answer, leaning up to sit on the rickety boards that made up his small castle. “Maybe,” he finally admitted.

“From who?” she asked, her brows furrowed. From what she had observed, and from what Regina told her, they were making some headway into their relationship. She admitted, with an adorable little smile, that he had begun kissing her cheek again after being dropped off at school, and had even taken back to eating her packed lunches, even _apples_ – something she was insanely happy about.

“Not from anyone,” he stressed, and she gave him a concerned look. “I wanted to… meet someone here,” he finished lamely, looking back down at the boards.

“Oh.” So many questions flooded in her brain. “Is it a friend?” Because she clearly remembered Regina telling her that he didn’t have any, until Nicholas and Ava.

“Yeah,” he muttered, nonchalantly. Still looking down.

She pursed her lips, moving to climb into the worn-down castle. “Henry,” she said slowly, and he still refused to look at her. “Who are you meeting here?” A lighter thought seeped through, and she had to ask, “Is it a girl? A boy? Obviously, I don’t judge.”

He shook his head timidly, and she began to get worried – she knew he was a smart kid, and _no one_ would _ever_ fuck with the son of The Mayor and The Sheriff, with capital titles, but she was curious about someone he clearly wanted to remain anonymous. “Seriously, Henry. At least tell me it’s someone your age.”

He released a breath, finally looking up at her. “It’s someone who believes me.”

And if that didn’t sound like the beginning of an _Unsolved Mysteries_ episode, then Emma didn’t know what was. “ _Seriously_ , Henry!?”

“He had proof! Look, I know it sounds crazy, but – !”

“No, God, this sounds _perfectly_ safe and sane! Was the free candy not enough, or did you just not _believe_ there was ice cream in his van? _How could you_ – ?” She cut herself off, snapping her jaw shut, her glare on Henry only slightly softening. “We’re going home.”

“Emma – !”

“NO. We’re going. _Home_.” Henry was petrified at the thunderous expression on her face, staring him down in a way that only his other mother could ever gaze at him. With a heavy head once again, he slid off the castle, and at any other time Emma would’ve thoroughly enjoyed seeing someone riding down a slide in such a sour mood, but she couldn’t even think about anything else.

It was when they reached the car, when she finally spoke. “Your mom told me about the playground. She didn’t want you to know that she knew about it.”

Henry sputtered from the passenger seat, gripping his seat belt to himself. “B-but – How did she know? She spied on me, didn’t she?”

 _“No,_ Henry. You don’t get to be mad at that. You don’t get a say in _anything_ right now. You answer my questions, and I _probably_ won’t tell your mother.”

“You can’t do that! She’ll crush my heart!”

Emma bit her tongue, censoring herself. “If she didn’t tell me where you were, you might’ve gotten a dose of reality none of us could handle.” Her grip loosened on the steering wheel, and she took deep breaths. “Henry, I’m only going to ask this once. Do you _truly_ believe all of this? The fairy tales, the Evil Queen, the curse?”

Henry nodded, staring up at Emma with hazel eyes, not a flinch of hesitation.

She closed her eyes, muttering something to herself.

Henry raised an eyebrow, hesitant to speak. “Emma?”

“You’re just as stubborn as your mother,” she groaned again. “Despite everything, you just have to be right.” She leaned against the steering wheel, glancing over at her son. “At least you _ask_ for my help, instead of push me away.” She smiled fondly. “I can’t tell Regina what you tried to do, because it’ll legit break _her_ heart, but I’m not letting you out of my sight again. If it’s not me, it’s your mother, and if it’s not her, Miss Blanchard will certainly help.” Grabbing her cell phone, she made a call to her new deputy. “Ruby? I need you to go to the beach. Near the old playground. I need you to look out for someone.” She handed the phone to Henry. “Every detail you can.”

Staring at the offending object with reluctant eyes, he grabbed the phone, and hesitantly spoke into the receiver. Emma released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Dealing with the Mills family was more of a challenge than she had anticipated. After a month of therapy, Regina had finally decided to let Emma in on their sessions, and even then, it wasn’t her decision, it was Archie’s.

An embarrassed Regina was a dreadfully cute Regina. Nevertheless, she took it seriously, and it hurt her to see Regina retreat into herself.

She had attended town hall meetings, watching The Mayor at work. She was very no-nonsense; Emma could easily understand why she had to be strict, being the mother hen to a town of cracked eggs, because it was _clear_ that she was the only one fit to run the town. But she was certain that she shouldn’t have been taking the same approach in _therapy_. She was stiff as a board, her hands primly, if not shakily, resting in her lap. She was clinical in her answers, vague in her responses, and whenever he told her his opinions, she always responded in a disinterested hum.

Emma worried, and she didn’t know how she was going to add onto that with what Henry had admitted to.

_“My mother killed my fiancé,” she began one brisk Wednesday afternoon, and those words set the tone for the rest of the session. “In front of me. He had just asked me to marry him. I said yes. She was furious. She didn’t show it, of course. She gave him her blessing, and even hugged him. He was… he was foolish to think she would let him go. I was foolish to think she would let **me** go.”_

_Emma’s hands twitched. Once in anger at the ‘mother’ in the story she had read, and once in sympathy for the woman in front of her. Still, she respected Regina’s decision that they avoid physical contact throughout these sessions. Her hands twitched again, before she smothered them in her lap._

_“For the longest time, I wanted to kill a little girl,” she continued, her tone bored – masked, Emma corrected herself, a rehearsed monotone – “for telling my mother about the forbidden romance I told the girl in confidence. She swore not to tell. Months later, I was wed to her father, a man I’m convinced she loved more than her own future husband. How_ convenient _.”_

_Archie said nothing. He had heard it before of course, but he still scribbled along in his notes. Regina was more giving a recap of what they missed, and what they had already worked through, to Emma. The way she told the story, however, convinced Emma that they didn’t work through much of anything, significantly. She wondered if Regina had been a sobbing wreck the month before, and had worked it down to a more neutral pain._

_She doubted it._

_And though she was regaling her story to Emma, she refused to look at her. She wasn’t even looking at Archie. She was more staring past Archie, into the middle distance. “My father couldn’t control my mother, he never tried – no one could, but he was the worst at it – she owned him. He loved me, but she terrified him. He couldn’t stand in front of her, not even for me. But he was the closest who would.” Her voice was deep, and throaty, but it was the words wrapped around her hidden tears that kept the blonde’s thoughts from wandering. “Even when my mother married me off, to a man four times my age, he did nothing. We were…_ married _for eight years, until a jealous man, who wanted to fight for my honor, killed him, through my persuasion.”_

_Emma was downright conflicted at Regina’s curled smile, the twinkle in her eyes. But she didn’t hate it. And she certainly didn’t judge her for it._

_“My mother and I fought each other. Physically, sometimes. She always won. The one time I did win, it cost me more than I could ever imagine, and she went away.” Emma didn’t know if Regina noticed, but her heart broke a little when her hand wandered to her stomach, feeling for something that just wasn’t there. “I’ve been manipulated all my life, and whenever I tried to stand for myself, it backfires. I’ve been constantly told that I’m second-best, or not as good, or the_ worst daughter _, and I’m an only child.” She gritted her teeth, for the first time in her story._

_Consequences be damned, her hand shot out, quickly linking her hands with Regina’s._

_She looked up in surprise, clearly lost in herself. Emma squeezed her hand, giving her a silent nod._

_“I…” she hesitated. “I’ve done_ horrible _things, Emma. Things I’ve had to do to survive. Things I_ wanted _to do, to build a name for myself. Things… things I’ve just gotten used to, at some point.”_

_Emma didn’t know what to say to that. Regina took notice.  
_

_“This was a bad idea,” she suddenly announced, and stood, ripping her hand out of Emma’s. “I’m sorry I involved you in this.”_

_“Regina, perhaps – ”_

_“No, Doctor Hopper.” She gathered her purse. “You will still be compensated for this whole session, but I can’t be here today. Perhaps next week, but bringing Miss Swan in was a mistake.”_

_“I don’t think it is.” Both turned to Emma, who still sat in the couch, her eyes on Archie in front of her, across the room. “But this isn’t about me. This is about Regina.” She turned to her friend, her hand reaching for the brunette’s once more. “And if you need me, then you have me. That’s all there is to it. I want to help you, no one’s forcing me to be here. I didn’t come here for a heartwarming story, ‘Gina. I’m here to understand your pain. And now, I can start doing that. It just takes me a little time. Don’t push me away.”_

_She allowed her hands to be taken into a strong, gentle grip. She allowed herself to be pulled back down to the love seat. She allowed her breath to be taken away by Emma’s words._

_Still, she couldn’t help herself. “‘Gina?” She repeated it with upturned lips, the first time she smiled since she had entered the room._

“Baby,” _she whispered, so softly that she was sure Archie couldn’t hear her, but by the way her brown eyes widened, Regina had_ definitely _heard. “I mean it. I’m not going anywhere. Even when you’re blatantly trying to scare me away.” She suddenly frowned. “Unless you tell me you’re the reason for Pluto’s fall from grace.”_ 1 _  
_

_She did a combination of a cough-wheeze-laugh, using her free hand to wipe at phantom tears. “I can promise you I’m not that evil.”_

_Emma wasn’t looking at Archie, but she was sure the man was inwardly grinning smugly, at a job well done. He knew that in order to make any headway, they needed Emma there. Regina probably still didn’t believe that, and perhaps the therapy would be over when she finally did._

“You’re just like me, too.”

She looked over to her son, who stared at her knowingly. “Hm?”

“You’re just as stubborn as I am. I’m not stopping until you believe me. And you’re not stopping until I believe my mom.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kid.” She looked back at the road. “This is about unity.”

“Huh?”

“Your mom needs your help. I’m a decent substitute to fill that empty hole in her heart, but she misses you so much. You just can’t see it, because you’re blinded by a book you can’t even find. I don’t care if the story is real or not. She raised you, she loved you, you loved her, you were _happy_ once. It was the book that ruined everything – not her.”

“But what she’s doing is wrong!”

“It’s wrong because you see it that way. Sometimes, the greater good has to be done.”

“My history teacher told us about the ‘ _greater good_ ‘ a lot in class. Hey, did you know that Hitler had the same – ?”

Her lips thinned. “I swear to God, if you even try to compare your mother to _fucking_ _Hitler_ – ”

“You said it, not me – ”

“ _Henry!_ “

“You don’t listen to me! No one listens to me! I’m just a stupid kid!” His elbow rammed against the back of his seat. “I came to you, and brought you here, and you’re on _her_ side! You’re supposed to save us! She’s the _villain_! But you won’t _listen to me_! It’s bad enough _you_ didn’t want me!”

She felt a sudden rush overtake her, and she quickly pulled over the car. She gave him a serious look, her eyes searching. “… Is that what you think? You think I didn’t want you?”

“Obviously.”

“Oh, Henry…” She turned in her seat, giving his pitiful face her full attention. “… You really think I was gonna fall for that _drivel?”_

He dropped the forlorn act, pouting again. Being the truest believer had its setbacks, and that meant that he knew _exactly_ why everything happened the way it did – if Henry was never given up, neither of them would have ever found their way to Storybrooke. But still… “You never gave me a reason.”

“I was raised in so many foster houses… I can’t even remember how many places they sent me. How many addresses did _you_ have to memorize? You could have been raised in a prison, then in a car. I had the feeling you didn’t know how truly good your life is. Now I know for a fact.” She shot her hand up, and he closed his mouth shut again. “An Evil Queen would have burnt your stupid book. An Evil Queen would’ve made you drink some potion to make you forget everything you know. An Evil Queen wouldn’t need therapy. An Evil Queen wouldn’t be the willing Godmother of Cinderella’s kid. She wouldn’t need to atone for anything. But she is. And she’s doing everything in her goddamn power to make up – ”

Emma cut herself off, putting her hand to her head. “I think I’m getting a migraine. You wonder why I couldn’t handle a kid.”

“It doesn’t excuse – ”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. ‘Evil begets evil’, and all that. Sure, your mom might – _might_  – have done some pretty bad things in a long-forgotten past. But you help the people you love, right? You don’t trash your mother to save a bunch of strangers. You _help_ her. And if she wants to correct a mistake, then maybe you should help her, right?”

He was silent, and she used that time to pull back onto the road. “Do you love her?”

She was tempted to pull back over. There was a time she would’ve been afraid of that question. _Terrified_. “That’s a loaded question.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“I loved your father. I loved my best friend. I loved my foster mother. All three broke my heart. Love isn’t a word I throw around. I love you. And you’re dangerously close to breaking my heart, too.” She bit her lip. “And so is your mother. She’s pushing me away because _you’re_ pushing her away.”

“So you _do_ love her?”

“I didn’t… say that,” she drew out, slowly, measuring her words, half-regretting them. “Someone important told me never to trust lightly. Unfortunately, that was after it happened three too many times. Trust and love go together, you can’t have one without the other.”

“You don’t trust her?”

“I didn’t say that, either. But… I love _you_ , Henry. And I trust you. I trusted her to raise you, and until that book, she did an amazing job.”

“… But you don’t trust me.”

She tilted her head. “I do, Henry. You’re just too damn stubborn to realize it.” She let out a tiresome sigh, grazing her fingers through her hair. “You only know half the story. Just because every story has a villain, doesn’t mean there isn’t another story out there, telling a different point of view. Just think about it.”

He did just that for the rest of the journey, while Emma pondered her next step. She deeply appreciated the silence.

It was a delicate balancing act, steadying the lives of her son and his mother. Her life had taken a turn when Henry showed up at midnight, on her twenty-eighth birthday. It was a turn for the weird, for sure, but it was also a turn for the better.

Mary Margaret, complaining about her own lack of love life, reminded Emma of just two months ago, when she was alone herself, and she didn’t even have a friend back then to complain about it to. No pets, no distant relative, no old friends that were willing to speak to her at that point.

She wasn’t embellishing, when she told Regina that skipping town would leave nothing behind. She left Boston with a bag, and her bug, and… well, the job was lucrative enough, but considering the rent in Storybrooke versus the flat in Boston, she was practically royalty. She had saved away, for a new house, and that was still the plan.

Now, she had no idea where the house she wanted would be planted. As a bonus, the real estate in this town was lowering ever since Gold was arrested.

Emma, blowing out the candle on her cupcake, had wished that she wouldn’t be alone, and her wish came true. The past months had been a fairy tale enough. She had an amazing son (in a little brother type of way) (until today), an adorable little Goddaughter, and extraordinary friends in Ruby, Ashley, and her… Regina.

She didn’t know what to call her, or the current status of their relationship. She was just her… ‘Regina’. _Her_ Regina. And that was enough.

She was sick of being alone. She finally had a chance at a family.

But for that, she needed unity. And that required a lot of trust, and there wasn’t much of that going around.

“We’re going to try a different approach, from now on,” she spoke, and the little believer popped his head up, blinking. “Curses, to the best of my knowledge, aren’t solved by an ‘Eye for an Eye’ mentality. How about you help people in the neighborhood? With me, of course.” She was sure Ruby would like to pitch in, and the Mayor wasn’t overly strict on her whereabouts during hours, as long as she got the paperwork on time. It would be a nice assignment for Henry on weekends, to boot, and an excellent solution to keep an eye on him. “I’m not so keen on being a savior, but you seem open to the idea of being a Samaritan.”

“Like a deputy sheriff?”

“A deputy-deputy sheriff,” she gently corrected, “yeah.”

“Do I get a gun?”

“Of course. Loaded and everything. I recommend salt-water. It stings the eyes.”

He pouted. “That’s not funny.”

“Didn’t mean it to be. I might actually get you a cool water gun if you’re good. Super Soaker, even.”

“It’s December!”

“Well, keep being good until you think you’re ready for one.”

“You know, you’re like the mom I almost had.”

She let out a chuckle, remembering the line she had told him a month ago. “Would you have it any different?”

He pondered the question, and seemed to consider it seriously enough. “Now that you’re both here? No.”

“Good kid.”

* * *

Storybrooke was well off the map. Well, _well_ off the map. Every single store in the town was a mom-and-pop operation, family-owned businesses and, thanks to Gold’s arrest, had been ramping up for quite the profit for the holiday season.

Regina stepped out of _Mousse and Lucy’s Tailoring_ , a custom-made large red leather purse in tow, looking to the sky.

Ten years ago, when she brought Henry into Storybrooke for the very first time, she had seen the leaves turn brown, reflecting the autumn season. It had never happened before in their little town, and it was the first sign of change she noticed. She knew that the curse was either beginning to wear off, or was reacting poorly to the break in routine. That next day, Doctor Hopper didn’t wave to her, Mary Margaret didn’t bump into her, and she lived a new day for the first time in eighteen years.

It terrified her, to see the pattern shift on her way to work, meeting entirely new people she didn’t even know had made it through the curse. She had thought… she didn’t know what she thought. Could _Henry_ be the Savior?

She couldn’t dwell on that harrowing theory for long, as she went into the City Hall the next morning, her new son fussing in his harness, and suddenly had a _job_ to do. A job she had no idea how to run, as the town no longer reset itself. Suddenly there were concerns of pay, and materials, and legal documents and consistent, constant communication with people she _hated_. She had a son to raise, and worrying if her little prince would grow up to kill her one day _couldn’t_ be a concern.

She wouldn’t go back to Gold for more information, but since he arranged the adoption, she should have expected such a thing. And clearly, he began to remember his old moniker, when she noticed that he had brought out the old spinning wheel from the back room.

Some habits just couldn’t die, apparently.

When time began again, he had noticed, and without a twenty-four hour reset timer, he had the time to do whatever he needed to do, likely a potion, and made his memories return. She didn’t know how – something else to worry about.

She knew she couldn’t keep the Dark One down long, magic or no magic. And that was yet another worry.

She was surrounded by change, more dangerous every day, all because she had felt lonely once.

Somewhere along the way, she had found a new pattern. She had surpassed competency in running her town – she perfected it. She was a _good_ mayor, perhaps a reflection of what she should have been years ago, but what’s done was done, and there was no going back.

What truly mattered was that Snow was alone, and suffering, and, _apparently,_ a virgin.

Just the reminder of how she knew that made her sigh, watching as the snow gently fell from the sky.

When Regina had brought Henry into Storybrooke, everything changed. When Henry brought Emma, _Regina’s whole world changed_.

Upon reflection, bringing Henry in was ultimately worth the strife, but the second time? She could only hope to come to a positive answer when the inevitable came to fruition.

She stopped at her car, placing the bag on the car top, and checked her own small black purse for her keys.

Suddenly, something pressed against her back. “ _Get in._ “

Regina stiffened. She took a deep breath, unheard by the man behind her. “I think not.”

“Wasn’t a choice.”

“Maybe. The answer is the same, however. Would you like my car?”

She heard him make a noise of disgust. “No. The tank probably runs on the souls of babies.”

She pursed her lips, trying to remember the most controversial bill she had passed in recent times. “I take it you didn’t vote for me?”

“I’m not from around here, _Mayor,_ ” he growled. “But I know where you came from, _Queenie_.”

“ _Oh_.” She relaxed, visibly, and chuckled. “I’ve been expecting you. Is that your nose, or are you just pleased to see me?”

“So you know who I am, huh?”

“What took you so long, puppet?” she began to sound annoyed. “I was looking to deal with you since I saw you.”

“You saw me?”

“Well, of course! You forget whose town you’re infiltrating. I saw you at the beach. Digging into the sand and stealing my son’s book.” It was her first date with Emma at _Sebastian’s Bistro_ , memorable for a great number of reasons, but glancing out the window to see a man dig into her son’s favorite hideout certainly had her attention. “So you know the truth?”

“I’ve always known the truth. And I’m going to give it to Emma.”

She didn’t look worried in the slightest. “By all means, follow your commands, puppet; it’s what you were made to do. Now get the gun out of my back before I set you on fire. I honestly don’t have the patience to deal with you right now.”

As soon as she felt the pressure release from her back, she whipped around and grabbed the offending weapon.

It was a wooden finger, extended at her, his thumb up.

“You wouldn’t attack an unarmed man, could you?” He grinned, his wooden teeth making her grimace.

“Threaten me like that again, and I cover you in termites. Is that clear?”

“I see you haven’t changed.”

She let go of the offending digit, pushing him away. “You’d be surprised. Now, what to do with you…”

August gestured to his hand. “Nothing I don’t have coming to me. Try your worst.”

She slipped her hand into her purse again, not for her keys this time. “You’re under the impression that I want to hurt you.”

“You should,” he scowled, and had it been any other person, the teeth would have been off-putting. Regina just found it amusing. “Emma’s going to know _everything_ , today.”

“Well, that does nothing but move up my schedule.” She checked her watch. “It seems I just finished my Christmas shopping ahead of time. So why don’t you go find the Savior and stop pestering me?”

He hesitated; his fully human (still punch-able, Regina noticed) face stared her up and down, confused. “Why are you saying this? You _know_ what’s gonna happen once the Savior knows what she needs to do. This is the end, and I know you don’t have magic.”

She sucked in a breath, allowing her lungs to expand with the chilly air. “Because I have nothing to hide, puppet. Whether Miss Swan wants to stop me or not is her business. You don’t think I couldn’t arrange a contingency plan?” She leaned closer, leering. “I’ve dreamed of this day for _twenty-eight_ years, kindling. I’m only going to warn you once. Stay away from Miss Swan, lest you needlessly complicate things.” She turned away, placing both purses on the hood of her car. “The curse will fall on its own. I might even help you maintain your animation if you cease meddling in my affairs.”

August stepped back, his level of skepticism increasing further. “What do you mean ‘the curse will fall’?”

“I can’t spell it out for you any further. Exactly how hollow _is_ that skull of yours?” She turned around, her smile sweet. “Consider it a Christmas present to Storybrooke, August Booth. If you tell Miss Swan of my plans, then you ruin the surprise.”

He tilted his head, ignoring the fact that she knew his full name. “From what I hear, your surprises have never been good.”

She mock-gasped, covering her mouth with her brightly painted nails. “Mind your tongue! People change, Mister Booth! I’m sure you know, even in your limited experience, that it’s possible for anyone.”

“Prove it.” From his black leather coat, he pulled a hunter’s knife. Regina’s expression didn’t change. “Tell Emma yourself.”

“You say you know who I am, and yet you threaten _me_.” She stepped closer, letting the blade dig into her overcoat, against her ribs. “You’d be very surprised at the things I tell Miss Swan. What’s to say I already told her, and she’s accepted who I am, and what I’ve done?”

“Huh.” He peered into her eyes, calculating. “And why would she accept a monster like you?”

“Enough of the bullshit, Booth. I know you’ve been following us. Speaking to my son. Your motorcycle isn’t subtle, and there’s only one other person in this town with a leather number. Your subtlety lacks eloquence. So, puppet, you tell me. _Why_ would the incorruptible Savior believe every word of the Evil Queen? Maybe I’m not as evil as you think.” She slid backwards, out of the blade’s boundary. “Or…”

With one hand, she flicked the unsteady knife to the side, knocking it out of his hand easily. With the other, her fingers sliced through his jacket, into his chest, and he gasped in pain, his eyes wide, unblinking.

“… Or maybe,” she whispered in monotone, staring into his petrified eyes, “I might be _exactly_ as evil as you think.”

August said nothing. Or, rather, he couldn’t say anything, his heart in her gloved grasp. He choked on the air, wheezing every time her fingers pulsed around his heart.

“Oh – what’s this? A real heart? You _are_ a real boy, Pinocchio! I truly hope you don’t mind the weather we’re having,” she calmly noted, easily pulling the heart back, inspecting it closely. “That figures – not pure, but not black, either. You never would’ve stabbed me. You lack the killer instinct.”

“Y-you,” he coughed, wincing. “You stole Emma’s heart. _That’s_ how you have her with you.”

“That’s up for debate. We won’t truly know until the curse ends. But you’re lost right now, August. You have quite the history of that. You need purpose, and I need your assistance, so you’ll do nicely.” Her curt tone was emphasized by squeezing his heart. “I don’t recommend having this conversation outside, unless you prefer a frozen heart. Now, be a good boy and get in the car. Come now, we have a busy schedule ahead of us, and I hope to get it done by Christmas. Knock on wood.”

* * *

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Clang!_ “Will you _cease_ with that _incessant thumping noise_?!”

 _Thump._ Predictably, her aim was true, and the rubber ball returned to her hand from the wall next to Gold’s cell. “No can do, inmate.”

 _Clang!_ He rammed his fists against the iron bars again. “You are _testing_ my _patience_ , Sheriff!”

“Y’know,” Ruby commented, looking away from the computer. “I might be new here, but I think she’s _trying_ to piss you off.”

Emma shook her head, tossing the ball again. _Thump_. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His teeth were bared, truly looking like a madman, his hair wild – despite the showers he had been allowed every day since his incarceration. Emma figured that it would make a better look for his lawyer, but no one had ever arrived to defend him. He _was_ the town lawyer, and no one had the qualifications to be appointed to him. Naturally, he wanted to defend himself.

There was just one problem. His name.

“Inmate Gold,” Emma pronounced, tossing the ball up in the air this time, effortlessly catching it. “You might be able to defend a client without a first name, but you can’t go to trial without a first name. Until legal documents are found and submitted, well… you can’t go to trial, and I can’t release you. I’m sure you understand.”

He went silent, as he always did when she brought up the reason he was still imprisoned. He couldn’t even be released on bail until his name entered the filing system, and ‘Gold’ just didn’t suffice. It sounded made-up to her, anyway. Regina had warned her that she might come across this problem; the filing system of Storybrooke mainly consisted of an actual filing cabinet.

Ruby was brilliant in her secretarial skills, slowly moving over their files into the digital format, but she had trouble finding any of Gold’s legal documents.

She was sure he had it, in some safe somewhere, which suited her just fine.

“Oh!” She turned to Ruby. “Did I tell you I found the guy?”

The statuesque brunette, clad in full deputy uniform, raised an eyebrow. With a distinct lack of cases, it didn’t take her long to figure out which guy. “The stranger Henry told you about? Who?”

“Yeah; Said he rides a motorcycle, right?” At Ruby’s confirmation, she grinned. “Yep, turns out he’s stalking me.”

“What?”

“He might be working with the reporter. He’s stalking me, too.”

“Sidney Glass?” her eyebrows rose in bewilderment. “That’s odd. You usually don’t see him do anything without the Mayor’s say-so.” She grinned. “You think he’s jealous of the Mayor’s attention? Looking for some dirt on you?”

Emma shrugged, unconcerned. “If he finds anything on me, I can always just, you know, pistol-whip him a little. Haven’t had a chance to use the thing yet.”

“Really? It’s that slow in this town?”

“Well, you tell me. When was the last time someone was killed? Or shot? Or even _died in general_?”

She pursed her brightly painted lips together, thinking hard. “At least a decade.” Emma laughed. “What?”

“That’s the same answer everyone’s given me,” the blonde explained, smirking. “How long has Mary Margaret been a teacher? At least ten years. How long has Regina been Mayor? How long has Marco been working at the wood shop?” She tilted her head at their inmate. “How long has Gold been the cornerstone of Storybrooke’s finances?”

“I mean – yeah, you could say that the town really slowed down in the past ten years. We all just… found a niche.”

“Seriously, Ruby? Okay, you’re the youngest person I met in this city with a job. When did you start waitressing? Year-specific.”

She shook her head, her ponytail swishing across her shoulders. “I’m not telling you how old I am.” She very specifically agreed to become deputy because she didn’t have to fill out paperwork to apply. She _might_ have embellished her information on other documents since. “Besides, it was a family business. I was born into it.”

“Fine, then. Let’s play a little game.” She shoved her rubber ball into her desk drawer, pulling out a pen and notepad. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“ _Ginger Snaps_ ,” she answered, without hesitation. “Why?”

“It’s something Henry and I came up with. A little questionnaire. Favorite color?” The brunette gave her a plain look. “Right,” Emma chuckled, writing down _Red_. “Favorite book?”

“You’re seriously not worried about your stalkers?”

“I’m handling it. Favorite Book.”

“ _Goosebumps_.”

The Sheriff scowled. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“What? You didn’t say it couldn’t be a series.”

“Fine. Favorite book in the series?”

“ _The Girl Who Cried Werewolf_.” She grinned, healthy white teeth – with perhaps a slight overbite – shimmering. “And my favorite song is Florence and the Machine’s _‘Howl.’_ Wanna know my favorite DeeJay?”

“Wolfman Jack?”

“No. Casey Kasem. Henry already told me who I was, Em. Nice try, though.”

“Told you who you were,” she commented, leaning forward on her elbows eyes scrutinizing the brunette before her, “not who you’re ‘supposed to be’?”

“Are you a sheriff or a detective?”

She rolled her eyes. “A deeply concerned mom.”

“Who else have you played this game with?”

“Well,” Emma flipped through her notebook, chewing on her pen cap, “Marco is a fan of ‘ _Frankenstein_ ‘, Doctor Whale is just a horror buff in general, but he seems to love zombies the most; Sean and Ashley’s favorite fruit is pumpkin, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard that answer from anyone in my life, let alone from two people; I’m not supposed to tell you this, because Abigail agreed to do it anonymously, but her favorite movie is Hunchback of Notre Dame, which is _insane_ , coming from a nun. Let’s see… _oh,_ Mary Margaret absolutely _loves_ ‘ _The Sound of Music_ ‘, and your granny’s favorite movie of all time is ‘ _Hoodwinked_ ‘.”

“ _Really_?”

“Shocked me, too.”

“I guess I feel… touched. And what about the Mayor?”

“Not much of a movie-watcher. I was planning a little night, actually, where we pick up some classics and watch them on Christmas with Henry. Her favorite book is _Atlas Shrugged_ by Ayn Rand.” She chuckled at Ruby’s bug-eyed look. “That was a joke.” She shook her head. “Didn’t ask her yet. We haven’t seen much of each other outside of – you know.”

Ruby nodded in commiseration.

True to her new line of work, Ruby had quickly figured out the relationship between Emma and Regina. Ever since her, _honestly harmless_ , flirting with the new girl in town, who claimed that she was already in a relationship, yet was never seen around anyone else and didn’t seem to miss wherever she was from, not to mention the absolutely _lustful_ way she looked at the Mayor whenever she ate one of her fries, while Ruby herself had almost gotten her head bitten off for swiping one… well, it wasn’t difficult to see it, and even harder to _unsee_ it.

No one else in town seemed to notice, but she was sure they’d be the talk of the admittedly slow news town, once someone else bothered to look outside their own bubble. It had been _well_ over ten years since anything interesting happened. She couldn’t even remember when. The closest thing to exciting probably had been the introduction of Henry Mills to their quiet little town.

Naturally, she confronted Emma about her secret dates with the mayor while on the job. She didn’t mind, really, but dating the person who wrote her checks, while she was supposed to be at work, she wondered if she was getting duped on her own pay. When Emma reluctantly explained the situation, she let it go.

It helped that Emma was getting paid just _slightly_ more.

“Could Regina have sent Sidney? To keep an eye on you or something?”

She responded with a raised eyebrow. “Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know. She could be worried about you, or what you do when she’s not around. I mean, you live with a beautiful virgin roommate, and you just hired a _stunning_ rookie subordinate. I’d have an ankle monitor on you by now.”

“That’s not… how did you know – ?”

She waved it off. “Mary Margaret and I are good friends. Despite our social circles.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, she’s convinced she’s into guys. I mean, how does she even _know_ yet?”

Emma snickered. “Yeah, I hate when that happens.” She sat back in her chair. “Maybe I should call her…”

Her phone buzzed; ‘ _I got a Black Magic Woman…_ _Yes, I got a Black Magic Woman…_ ‘

“Speak of the witch,” Ruby laughed at the ringtone, and Emma winced.

“Only I call her that,” she wagged her finger, and Ruby stuck out her tongue. She pulled her phone out as she slipped into the lobby. “‘Gina, I was just about to call you. What’s up?”

_“I **need** you, Sheriff.”_

Despite having a very vivid dream the previous night that started with Regina saying those very words, Emma’s stomach dropped at the Mayor’s tone. “I’m on my way. Where are you? Is Henry okay?”

 _“He’s fine,”_ she quickly assured her, _“Henry’s fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry for my – urgency.”_ She heard a deep sigh. _“I need advice.”_

“Oh. Okay. Uh, give me a second?” She heard an impatient sigh on the other side, and took it as a ‘hurry, or we’ll never do this again’. She muted the phone and peeked into the main office, gesturing to her device. Ruby gave her a thumbs up. She went to the nearest bench, outside the station, and cleared her throat. “Yeah?”

Other than what she guessed was a tense breath of air, there was no response.

She mentally slapped herself. Muted phone, _right_.

She un-muted, and made a silent promise to never tell anyone of that moment before lifting it to her ear. “Okay, I’m here.”

 _“Hypothetically,”_ she began, and Emma braced herself for the _worst. “If I wasn’t completely honest with you and Doctor Hopper during our sessions; if there was more to it?”_

“Oh. That’s it? I mean, _of course_ , but you should have your own secrets. Some are harder to reveal than others.” She quickly corrected herself, completely aware that this was the first time Regina was opening up to her about _this._

But Regina interrupted her apology. _“Emma, it’s not a secret. It’s a confession.”_ She paused, and Emma braced herself all over again. _“You know I was part of the wrong type of crowd. I joined that crowd, I killed a lot of people to become accepted by that crowd, and I became the leader of that crowd.”_ She was silent. _“And then I killed my crowd.”_

Her mouth was dry. “Regina, don’t worry about that. I’m… coming to terms with it all.”

_“This unsaid thing, Emma… it has to be said.”_

She sat up, her back against the bench, her knees pulled up to her chest. “It doesn’t have to be.”

_“Hypothetically. Does it scare you?”_

“I want to be honest with you. Yes.” She sniffed. “But _you_ don’t.”

An extended silence. _“I’m **sorry,** Emma.”_ _Click._

* * *

Regina stared blankly at her landline phone, listening to her dial tone, several minutes after she picked it up again. She couldn’t bring herself to dial her number again. “I’m so sorry, Emma,” she whispered, before hanging up again. She put her head in her hands, her lips quivering. “I don’t _deserve_ a happy ending.”

“Mom?”

She popped up her head, swiping at her eyes so fast that he wasn’t even sure that she had done it, a very practiced move, before turning to him, a pained smile bleeding forth. “Henry! Is it dinner time already?”

Henry felt a pang of guilt; he had made a habit of not speaking to her, and only coming downstairs to eat in previous months, ever since he found the book. “I heard everything, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Please, Henry. Please don’t apologize. This is my fault.”

“She loves you, mom.”

She blinked, her shiny eyes accidentally dropping tears. “What?”

“She loves you. She told me. She even called this house her _home.”_ He stepped closer. “You two could end the curse.”

“Henry – ”

“ _No_! Don’t do this again, mom! I _know_. And I’ll _always_ believe!” He crossed his arms. “This isn’t about me anymore, Mom. This isn’t to protect me. This is for _you_. And that’s how the curse ends. I know you’ve been working towards this, you can’t give up now.”

She gave Henry a miserable smile. “If only life were that easy, baby.”

“It usually is, Mom. Adults just like to complicate things.” He leaned in, and she accepted his gripping hug. The tears flowed on, for a different reason.

“I owe you a long-overdue apology, my son.” She sniffed, holding on tightly. “I made you think you were insane. You wasted two hours a week, for half a year, because of me.”

“It’s okay, Mom. Really. It gave me more time to play with Pongo. Besides, I never thought I was insane. I never stopped believing for a second. If anything, you wasted money.”

She let out a tearful laugh. “Why, Henry? After everything I did. Why are you forgiving me? Why do you think I could change?”

“It was something Emma said.” He pulled back, and grinned. “You help the people you love. You sent me to therapy; The Evil Queen could’ve done a lot worse. And even after everything, you’re still one of the best moms I know. Who packs a lunch for their kid anymore?”

She gifted him with a genuine smile, and a kiss on the forehead. “One of? Who else? And _don’t_ say Mary Margaret.”

“I’ve got two, now. Don’t make me choose.”

“Well, if you say I’m competing with the Savior for ‘best mom’, I’m flattered.”

Henry sobered. “Tell her. You got to tell her.”

She looked unsure. “I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”

“Then _kiss_ her. The curse will break.”

There were two main reasons she didn’t think the curse would break from Emma’s kiss, but she admitted to her son only one. “I can’t do one without the other. She has to believe in magic, first. She’ll have to believe in the curse, secondly. And…” she hesitated. “They’ll come for me. I did what I could, but they will all come for me. And if they can’t get me, they’ll come for you, and Emma. We’ll – we might have to leave town.”

Henry looked conflicted. Knowing her son like she did, she knew he didn’t like the idea of running. She knew, ideally, he would like her to apologize for her crimes, but she knew that her head would come clean off before she could get the first word of an apology out.

“Will Emma come with us?”

“…I don’t know, Henry.”

“No, not that. I mean… I know she will. I just meant… would you let her?”

She gave him an odd look. “Did she really say that to you? That she loved me?”

Before he could answer, they were both interrupted when a car door slammed shut.

* * *

When she pulled a fireman’s axe out of her trunk, Emma knew there was no turning back.

_“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?”_

_“I stole watches.”_

_Ruby shook her head. “That’s not romantic. Unless you want to remind her it’s love-o’clock.”_

_“We were thieves. We were a good team, ’til he stabbed me in the back. I mean, I went to prison for him, but I wouldn’t call it an act of love. I just couldn’t pin it on him when he ghosted me.”_

_“Well, you can’t arrest yourself,” Ruby mulled it over, rubbing her chin. “And, I don’t think she’s the type to fall for you playing ‘Black Magic Woman’ on a jukebox outside her house. Have you tried paying for one of those sky messages?”_

_“Ruby, this is important!” Emma ran a hand through her blonde locks, **this close** to tearing them out.  
_

_“Hey, I’m new to this! Not all of us can try to win back the most powerful woman in the city or whatever!”_

_“Ladies.” They turned to see Gold, his arms crossed around the bars, a smug half-grin adorning his marred face. “If I may. Have you considered apples? She seems to have a fondness for that particular fruit.”_

_Emma scoffed. “She has enough of those, thank you. But when I need your advice, I’ll ask for it.”_

_“Actually…” Ruby paused, biting her lip. “That might work. Her apple tree. Carve your initials.”_

_When the impish man’s eyes lit up, she knew it was a terrible idea. But she still listened._

_“I mean, for as long as I remember – for at_ least _ten years,” she sheepishly admitted, “she’s had that tree. She makes the best turnovers in the_ world _. The best ciders,_ anything _. She’ll never run unopposed because of the goddamn pastries at the victory party. Granny’s tried planting seeds from one of her apples; no luck so far. What I’m saying is – she loves that tree, and she makes fucking miracles with that tree. So… show your love in the thing that she loves. She’ll see it every time she goes to that tree, and she’ll think of you. Better yet, put both initials. ES and RM. Put a little heart around it. I mean, it’s outdated, but this couldn’t_ be _more appropriate. When else are you going to meet a girl that’s in love with a tree?”_

_Even in her desperate anger, she could see how stupid that plan was. “That’s defacing property.”_

_“Well, that would answer our previous concern. You can’t arrest yourself, but I guess I could.”_

_“No.” She stood from the desk, stalking out of the office, purpose in every step. “I’ll see you later. If I’m not back in three hours, don’t arrest her, I probably deserved it.”_

_“Emma, what the hell are you gonna do?”_

_Ruby heard three terrifying sounds in rapid succession: she heard glass shatter in the hallway to the entrance, and an alarm began to blare. But what scared her the most were Emma’s last words over the siren, before she left the station. “I have a better idea.”_

“This is a terrible fucking idea.”

She stood in the backyard, staring at the massive, beautiful tree, and wondered if it was stolen from the Garden of Eden itself. She was immediately reminded of a happier memory – Regina’s eyes, first in shock, then smoldering, gazing at her with lust and affection. In her hands, almost forgotten, a full basket of shiny red apples, perfect and scrumptious. Hand-picked, probably.

She’d miss the apples, sure, but without a doubt, Regina tasted better. _‘Objectively.’_

Slowly rolling her neck, she slid the leather jacket down off her frame, leaving her black tank top behind, exposing her bare arms to the light snow. Not lewd enough for the kid to recede back into therapy, but enough to get Regina’s attention.

Emma kissed her left bicep. “This is gonna hurt in the morning.” She grunted, flipping the axe in her hand, just for show.

It was her fault, Emma could admit to that. She had told Regina that her past had scared her a little. She had admitted that she was fearful of the Evil Queen.

She scoffed. If there was any emotion she felt, it _wasn’t_ fear. If there was any emotion she felt, a familiar, hopeful warmth bubbling in her chest, _that_ was what she feared _most._

Not anymore. As hesitant as she was to say it, she’s be sure to write it down.

Initials? She was gonna sign her name in the motherfucker.

She planted her foot at the base, the axe head still at her feet when the back door opened. “ _Emma_!”

“Regina,” she nodded dutifully, a smidgen of guilt rising in her when she saw that Henry had followed her. “Henry. Nice day out.”

“ _What the hell are you doing?!_ “

‘ _Cursing in front of the kid. Oh boy, she is_ pissed. _‘_ “You know, the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. Give me a second.” She raised the axe.

“Emma, _wait_!” Regina ran forward, stumbling out of her heels. _“Please!_ The tree is _fortified!_ You _can’t_ – ”

** _THWAK!_ **

It was a mighty swing, and while the fire axe wasn’t that sharp, and designed to take down doors rather than fully-grown trees, the entirety of the silver bit was hidden inside the crevice that was left there.

With a minimal tug, it dislodged from the tree and swung back to resting on her shoulder.

“… Dammit,” she muttered, sighing heavily. “I forgot my line. I had this whole speech.”

Regina stopped in her tracks, staring in disbelief at the gap in the trunk. She was at a loss for words.

The tree she had since she was a little girl, that had been with her through everything, the thing she loved most that didn’t have a heart, had been _dented_.

Much more importantly, Emma was still _alive._

“That was… it didn’t kill you.”

“Oh! I remembered!” She cleared her throat. “All of us do things that we… regret, or whatever. We can’t let that control our lives. You’ve killed thousands; I don’t recycle, and in a roundabout way, its comparable. Depends on where your particular line is. Obviously, I am desperate to show you that my line is pretty low.” She gripped her axe tightly, holding it with both hands behind her head. “Actions speak louder than words, but it can get too loud. So if you want to go back to healthy communication, over some cider _,_ like civilized adults, I’m _okay_ with that. But let’s get one thing straight; I am _not_ afraid of you, what you were, and what you might want to become again. So do your worst.”

The blonde’s voice knocked Regina out of her stupor, and with every word, she sent her a heated glare. “Emma! What the _fuck_!”

“ _MOM!_ “

“Finally, you’re baring your heart to me!” Emma smiled, unironic in her glee as Regina approached her. “Don’t just _scowl_ at me! Stop _hiding_! I need you to show me how you really – ”

Neither Regina nor Emma could really define the audible sound of a fist ramming into a jaw, but that was the very next sound that echoed throughout the Mills backyard. It was a _thud_ , if anything, and the slight inaudible _crunch_ mixed in there was an unforgettable cacophony of sounds, mixed together in a harmony of pain.

Henry watched in amazement as his mother tumbled to the ground in pain. “ _Mom!_ “

Regina winced, holding her knuckles tenderly, tears threatening to leak through, yet again.

Emma dropped her axe, leaning down to one knee. She worked her jaw for a second, before grinning easily. “That’s a start.” She held out her hand.

Regina, flummoxed by the enigma that was Emma Swan, returned the gesture. The blonde took it, and gazing tenderly at her brown eyes, kissed her bruising knuckles.

Regina knew her strength, very well. She might not have looked the part, but all her life, she had handled horses, she had broken them even during her time as mayor. Despite her mother’s teachings, being a farmhand had become a small part of her life, continued through her gardening and personal lawn care. She didn’t have Emma’s arms, but she could carry her own weight, easily.

And she had thrown her full weight behind her punch.

Besides a small scratch on her chin, the blonde looked none the worse for wear. Her perfectly aligned teeth in her perfectly symmetrical smile irked her, for the first time. In that moment, her smile gave Mary Margaret a run for her money, in the category of ‘things she wanted another swing at.’

Still, she allowed herself to be pulled back up, and even if she wanted to pull her hand back from Emma’s grip, it hurt to move it anyway. She chose to let it stay in the blonde’s comforting grasp. _“How?”_

“Magic?” She shrugged. Regina blinked rapidly. Henry gasped. Emma rolled her eyes. _“Kidding._ I told you the second day we met; I got into a lot of fights. When the adrenaline kicks in, I’m virtually indestructible. I’ll probably feel it in the morning; or not. But as far as punches goes, you’ve got a hell of a swing.”

Henry pouted. “Knew it was too good to be true.”

“Yes,” Regina muttered, glancing over to her left, at the dented trunk of her Honeycrisp apple tree. “It certainly is.”

 _No one_ should have been able to penetrate the protection spell around the tree. If anyone had come at it with ill intent, they’d find themselves petrified, and transformed into a fresh mound of soil for her garden. Besides the cemetery, it was the only other source of magic she kept in Storybrooke.

With her uninjured hand, she reached out, and shivered at the raw power the tree had protecting it. She rarely touched it, to feel that rush of magic nipping at her fingers, calling out for her to harness it once again – but she had to see.

The protection spell was unaffected. There was no tampering, no molestation of her essence.

She stared at her hand, calculating, while Emma stood, gently massaging her hand, waiting patiently for the brunette to speak. Her next words weren’t unexpected.

“…You’re an _idiot_.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Can’t deny that anymore.”

“Striking that tree was supposed to _kill_ you.” She paused. No matter how pissed she might have been, there was a very real chance of regretting her next words. “There… there was a… a protection, in place…”

“Yeah, I know. A spell.” They gave her an expectant look. “Not kidding, this time. Magic; turns out, it’s a thing. Cat’s out of the bag. I mean, the book never explained what the spell was gonna do. I thought it would repel me, or set off some alarm. Didn’t think it might kill me.” She chuckled nervously. “Boy, did I luck out on that one!”

“Magic,” Regina forced herself to repeat, “… _is a thing?_ “

Henry shook his head. “Ma, I’m ten, and even I can tell that’s a gross understatement.”

“Henry, in life, if you can’t rationalize something succinctly enough, I’ve found that it can be best split into two categories: ‘thing’, and ‘not a thing’. This is, to the best of my worldly knowledge, very much a thing.”

“Miss Swan, you’re a _miracle.”_

“I’ve been told.” She held up her hand, and kissed it again. “But at least you’re not sorry anymore. And I’m sure as shit not afraid anymore.”

She remembered the last words she had said to Emma over the phone, and stared at her in disbelief. “ _That’s_ what this was about? You felt _slighted_ by me?”

“Of course, ‘Gina. When someone as amazing as you doesn’t even want to talk to me anymore, I need to do _something_ to get her attention!”

The rising flush in her cheeks would be attributed to her anger, according to future re-tellings. “A phone call wouldn’t have sufficed?”

“The line was busy, and besides, that’s how you broke up with me,” she shot back, with a challenging stare and a raised eyebrow.

“Emma, we broke up a month ago. _In person._ “

“I _thought_ we had gotten back together at some point! You’re telling me this whole time – hold on.” She held up Regina’s hand, yet again. “Can you feel your fingers?”

Regina winced as she wiggled her digits, only to not feel the expected pain. Curiously, she lifted her hand from Emma’s outstretched palm, staring in astonishment at her once-again pale fingers. “You… you healed me.” It had honestly felt like her hand had been broken, but now it felt like she could punch the baffling blonde all over again.

“How did I do that? True Love’s Kiss?”

“ _No_ , you – “

She paused, her lips slightly parted, processing Emma’s words. She seemed to realize what she had said at the same time; her sky green eyes shone with nervousness, her bravado leaving her with a single breath, the confident Savior that she admired, replaced with the unsure, timid woman she adored and cherished. She had never seen the woman so _shy._

And she caused that. Sometimes, Emma caused the same stirrings of vulnerability in herself.

 _Was_ it True Love’s Kiss? Did Emma intend it to be? _Could_ Emma have mended her just by a kiss? She wasn’t sure.

But there was one way to find out.

Using her freshly restored hand, she gripped at the black tank top of the Savior, and pulled her down for a searing kiss.

“Gross,” Henry commented with a grimace, but since they were doing it to save Storybrooke, he awkwardly looked away, not bothering to interrupt further.

Emma slid her hands around Regina’s back, her thumbs digging into the inside of her thin designer belt, tilting her lover back, pouring everything she could into the woman in her embrace. Regina hung her arms around the taller woman’s neck, allowing herself to be swept away in her strong arms.

After a few, passionate seconds, mindful of their audience, Emma broke the kiss, slipping one of her hands free to brush her hair back. “So, it’s not too late to say I’m sorry?”

Regina panted, her eyes wandering every bit of Emma’s face, getting nothing but adoration in return. “I…” she cursed herself at the overly gruff rasp in her voice. “It’ll come out of your check.”

Hearing that his mothers’ lips were no longer occupied, Henry turned back to them. He was sure he would one day appreciate his mothers gazing adoringly in each other’s eyes, and it held nothing but promises for a considerably brighter future, but still… “Gross. Get a room, moms.” He glanced around. “Did the curse break?”

Emma seemed rather unconcerned, looking at her in a way that Dopey could never achieve, while Regina let out a sigh of relief. “For the moment, no. I don’t think so.” And that was very good news for all of them. Neither Glass nor Booth were finished with their tasks yet, and she would rather have a head start on the town. Though, deep inside, she was curious, and hurt, that the kiss didn’t work, and she shook herself for wanting both outcomes.

“Good,” Emma muttered, very seriously, “because you got some ‘splainin to do, ‘Gina.”

The reference completely going over her head, Regina nodded desperately. “Anything you want to know, Emma. Anything. I _promise.”_

She bit her lip. Emma had a few – okay, a _ton_ of questions, from the two mysterious men following her around, to the books that seemed to appear and disappear when it was convenient or inconvenient, but she had several pressing inquiries that needed to be answered first.

“Are we still on for movie night? It’s a date-date, not one of those friend-dates, right?” She giggled at her now-girlfriend’s glare. “Can I get an apple turnover? I heard they’re pretty good.”

Regina’s eye twitched.

She had chosen to _fall in love_ with this woman, and perhaps that in itself guaranteed that she’d have to work forever for her happy ending.

She gave a knowing look to Henry, and like a respectful son, he sighed and turned around, making his way back into the house. She turned to Emma, with mischievous cinnamon eyes, and leaned into her Savior’s embrace.

With the exception of Henry, no one told her true love was going to be easy. She just hoped that when the time came, Emma could make her believe that it _could_ be.

* * *

**~Present(?)~**

Cruella _Heller_ , Emmalina decided, wasn’t much of an upgrade from _De Vil_ , but she had to admit that they made a cute couple. At least, when programmed to not be a homicidal maniac and a coincidental love for dogs, and Isaac having no memory of his past as an Author.

As long as she didn’t snap when someone inevitably called her _Hella Crueler_. She wasn’t too worried. She had Pongo, and approximately one hundred bodyguards, keeping an eye on them. Puppies, and a heavily invested mother, can really bite when they’re motivated.

Having Cruella in charge of the first recorded veterinary clinic was a nice touch, she felt.

“Okay,” she muttered, stepping back, waving her fingers and allowing time to ripple in front of her. Helping Isaac had presented her with the unique opportunity of creating an alternate realm – a wish realm, rather. A perfectly cloned reality, and London, and Enchanted Forest.

She wasn’t lying – it was far too dangerous to tinker with an already established past, even with her soothsaying abilities. Someone in the past seeing her at all could wipe out fifty percent of her – she had to be careful.

Creating another realm and merging the two, however, was something she was confident in. Picking and choosing, and redefining fates, was The Dark One’s expertise, and The Savior’s destiny.

And her first stop, for the Queen’s pleasure – the _fairies._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that awkward moment when the story runs away from you? I need to put out a missing poster for this one, holy crap.
> 
> So, a heavy percentage of SwanQueen stories, I've noticed, especially in the humor section, like to feature Idiot!Emma, a fun, comic relief character who's crazy for/in love with Regina. Sometimes, she can be ignorant of her own feelings (but naturally does the right things to get Regina's attention), or follows her heart instead of her head for the most hilarious of consequences, or just does something that causes Regina to be inevitably annoyed at Emma. The classic _comic_ and _straight man_ comedy duo routine, to serve for levity in romantic situations, and a perfect contradiction to the character of Regina. I've seen it done well, and I've seen it done terribly. I personally consider it a bit OOC, because Emma is rather calm and, while reckless, not much of a joke machine, nor does she make stupid mistakes in the show, but hey, that's the magic of fanfic, right? Even though it has become a bit of a cliched staple in SwanQueen fics, it is one that I thoroughly understand in most situations, and enjoy immensely when done right. Emma, an adorable, playful, lovable, goofy 'idiot'.
> 
> I've tried avoiding that cliche, and I think I've been rather successful at that, other than a small bit of Chapter 3. That streak will end in this chapter. And while this also serves as a setup for a greater purpose (there is a reason she did what she did, but you won't see it in this chapter), I decided to have some fun with the cliche in a way that I hope is humorous, and go for 'endearing idiot that Regina adores', and not 'stupid'. I'm still not sure if it's done well or terribly, but it's there, and totally for you to judge.
> 
> Just wanted to explore every facet of the character. Emma seemed the type to show a little practical therapy, if words were no longer working. She's a woman of action.
> 
> The titular character of the show will probably return to the main role after this arc is over, with frequent flashbacks. I may be dragging this story out a tad bit, but other characters need to be introduced to Emma and Regina, before Emmalina can confront them.
> 
> Oct. 2 is my birthday, and all I want is reviews! So shower me with presents! Thank you to RonisGirlSQ, Ship_Wrecked, and V.Black for your comments!
> 
> Also, I have a job (My first ever), and updating will be a bit harder, so I might have to do shorter chapters (after I release what I have backlogged).


	9. A Woman's Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OR
> 
> _‘How I Solve All of My Problems, by Emma Swan.’_
> 
> OR 
> 
> _‘How Emma Solves All of My Problems, by Regina Mills.’_
> 
>  **Dedications:** Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thank you all for your support.

Emma shuddered, letting out a heavenly sigh as she tasted Regina’s famous Apple Turnover. “Oh _God_ ,” she moaned, closing her eyes, savoring the taste. “Ruby was so freaking right.”

“Miss Swan,” Regina said gently, the corners of her lips twitching upwards at the compliment. “Focus, please.”

“I _am_ , woman. Nothing else in this world matters more than the magic of your hands on these apples.”

Henry sniggered, and Regina pinched at the vein in her forehead. “ _Emma_ …”

She let out a low moan-slash-growl, finally swallowing, with an assist from a sip of milk. “I should be mad that I’ve known you for this long, and you never told me you bake with what must be real magic. Seriously, what else is there to talk about? I read the book. I know pretty much everything. And I _accept_ it.”

“How?” Regina was baffled at the genuine green eyes that stared back at her. “How can you manage to overlook everything I’ve done?”

“Because it’s who you are,” Emma explained slowly, pushing the plate aside. “It’s what you’ve become. We talked about this with Archie. Just because I knew the actual story beforehand, doesn’t mean I was any less genuine helping you with this. Throughout all of this, you’re my _friend_ , ‘Gina. Your past is your past. I saw how far you’ve sunken. To climb out of that hole is… impressive, to say the least.”

Her eyes shifted away from that loving gaze, the corners of her lips upturned.

“So _you_ stole the book!”

Both were startled at Henry’s accusatory yell, and outstretched arm. “Henry! Do _not_ point and yell at your mother!”

“She stole my book!”

“Henry,” Emma started, her voice sweet. “What did I tell you before? What happens when you assume?”

“I…” he looked confused. “So who gave you the book? Pinocchio?”

“No,” Regina answered for Emma. “He’s coming tomorrow, to return it to you.”

“ _He is?_ ” Both Henry and Emma asked at the same time.

The Mayor nodded. “He stole your book, Henry. I happened to see him when Emma and I went to Sebastian’s Bistro.”

Henry furrowed his brows. “Is that how you know where my hideout is?”

She frowned. “And how would you know that I knew?”

“Emma found me, and who would look for a kid at the beach in December? I’m not an idiot, mom.” He turned to Emma. “What book are _you_ talking about?”

Emma sent a silent thanks to the kid, before shifting her eyes towards Regina. “A different book.” She gave Henry an apologetic look. “It has something to do with your mother, so I’ll give it to her, and she’ll decide what to do with it.”

Henry pouted. “That’s not fair at all.”

“You never let me see your book,” Regina reminded him. “I deserve the choice, Henry.”

“Y’know, I never read the book either.” She crossed her arms, sitting back against the island. “What does it say about me? Besides the ‘Savior’ nonsense? Anything about my parents?”

Their son blinked. “Neither of you read the book? Really?”

His mothers both shook their heads. “You were very protective of it,” Regina explained, leaning on the bar area next to Emma. “You were afraid I was going to destroy it. I wouldn’t have, but I’m not sure I would’ve given it back, either.”

Emma chuckled. “Sometimes, you’re too honest.”

“I’ve _never_ been accused of that,” she grinned, leaning into the blonde.

She wrapped her arm around the brunette, kissing her shoulder, before turning back to Henry, a single question on her mind.

In one, single instance, she saw a kaleidoscope of emotions flash through her son’s face, before he settled on trepidation.

That was curious.

She glanced over to Regina, who had her own eyes closed. Likely taking a subtle whiff of her jacket. She caught her doing that, once.

Emma looked over at her son, opening her mouth, and Henry shook his head _furiously_. His eyes twitched to Regina, and back to Emma, back to Regina, back to Emma.

 _‘Oh. Okay.’_ She had the feeling that she should ask Henry, later, but she wasn’t sure if she even wanted to know. “Actually,” she muttered, thinking quickly, “could you go upstairs for a sec? I need some time to apologize to your mom.”

“You already did – _oh_. Gross.”

Regina chuckled as Henry quickly bounded up the stairs. “You’re scarring our son for life.”

“The fact that he knew what I was talking about at all means he’s been pre-scarred.” Quickly stepping down from the high stool, she hooked her arm around her girlfriend’s waist and lifted her, and Regina let out an involuntary squeal. Praying that Henry didn’t hear that, she burrowed her face into his mother’s neck, easily maneuvering herself to the couch they had first connected months ago.

It was a practiced move; planting her butt into the loveseat, Regina kneeling around her lap, hugging the blonde’s head to her chest with a fierce grip. “Emma! You _know_ I hate when you do that!”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and Regina huffed, knowing Emma wasn’t very sorry, especially when she was smothering her with her breasts. She pulled her head away by her golden hair. “Not sorry.”

She _tsked_ , dragging her finger along the small bruise that had begun to form on her jawline. “Not sorry, either.”

Emma grinned, tilting her jaw out towards her delicate touch. “Kiss it better?”

“That depends.” She pinched her chin between her thumb and forefinger, holding her head in place. “Earlier…” she started, licking her dry lips. “When you asked if it was True Love’s Kiss. What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly what you think it means. It’s… it’s difficult for me to say something like that. I have trust issues too, you know, and this really is a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing. I hate that word – ironically enough. People throw ‘love’ around, it doesn’t have meaning anymore. It means _too much_ to me. As long as I’ve known it, it’s the first step to betrayal. When I say ‘that’ to you, I want to make sure I mean it, that you know it, and neither of us can take it back. I don’t want you to regret it. I want to _mean_ it. Is… that okay?”

 _‘When I say it,’_ echoed through her mind. _‘Not if.’_ “It’s perfect,” Regina muttered, leaning down to kiss her jaw. “I was thinking among the same lines. Meanwhile, you profess your love for my turnovers quite vociferously.”

“I think it’s a compulsion charm,” she sighed. “There’s got to be legit magic in there.”

“Compulsion charm?” Her brows furrowed, before she frowned. “Are you comparing my magic to _Harry Potter_?”

“Not much of a fantasy girl,” she admitted, shrugging. “Don’t have a lot of reference points. I mean, anything’s possible, right?”

“Perhaps. Sorry to disappoint you, but I find that _charms_ tend to sacrifice the flavor. Now, if blended well, _potions_ ,  on the other hand…”

“That makes sense. I think. Could you teach me how to bake like that? I’ve always wanted to bake a pie, like in the old cartoons.”

She scrunched her nose in distaste. “I’ve never really considered baking a pie. It always seemed too… _housewife_.”

“I think you’d look adorable.”

“My point exactly. However, if you wish, I could teach you the complex science of mixing fruit and throwing yeast into an oven.”

“You make it sound so romantic,” she sniffed, reaching up to peck her on the lips.

“Why a pie?” she wondered after their brief kiss, absently brushing the blonde’s hair back. “I could teach you to make a turnover.”

“Never had them before. I _love_ pie more than anything.”

Regina blinked. “You made that point very clear to me on our first date.”

“But we ate seafood on – Oh!  _Madam Mayor!_ Did you just make a _dirty joke_?”

“No, of course not. I’m sure you misheard, dear. Personally, I’m bewildered that you seem so willing to keep eating from the tree you tried to chop down. You bit from the hand that feeds you.”

“And then you punched the face that eats you,” Emma responded immediately. “At least, I hope that’s where this is leading. Speaking of pie, it’s _really_ hard to believe you’ve never tried baking one.”

“Good _Lord_ , Miss Swan,” she laughed, the _bluntness_ of Emma’s words leaving her surprised and flushed. “Do you have a _book_ of those?”

“I _could_ write a book,” she admitted. “You’re a good inspiration.” She hesitated, and Regina was suddenly reminded of the book Emma had read, about _her_.

The mood of the room darkened. “How much do you know?” she asked softly, actively trying not to make it a demanding tone, because she _desperately_ wanted to know how much Emma knew of her past. “Do you… have any questions?”

“It’s in the car. It’s like you wrote the book yourself. It’s… personal. Everything we talked about in therapy, all of your revised history, it’s in the book. The ‘real’ story.” She wiggled her nose. “Whatever ‘real’ is anymore.”

 _‘Oh.’_ “That’s why it didn’t work.”

“Hm?”

“The kiss. That’s why it didn’t work. You have to truly believe in magic, and the curse. You’ve been told that it’s real, but you haven’t seen it.” She swallowed. “I want to show you something. Something magical.”

“Okay,” she muttered hesitantly. She glanced towards the staircase. “Should I…?”

Regina shook her head. “It isn’t something I want to show Henry. Not yet.”

* * *

“Daniel’s… grave?”

“No. His grave is at the stable. This,” she muttered, her voice thick as she pressed her hand against the wooden doors, “is my father. Allegedly.”

“Henry.” Her voice was small, hugging her storybook to herself as they stood out in the snow. “Are you sure?”

“I am. But we’re not here to see his grave.” With a light shove, the doors swung open, and when Emma finally had the courage to open her eyes, Regina stood at the top of a staircase, leading down into darkness. Her smile contradicted the gloomy setting. “Does death scare you?”

“That depends; are you going to make me look at a corpse?”

She frowned. “No. I’m here to show you magic.”

“A re-animated corpse?”

She shook her head, grinning again. “Come on, Emma. It’s harmless.”

The moment she was within reach, Regina held her free hand, and they ventured down the staircase together.

Torches flickered to life. An ethereal glow began to fill the room. And Emma was met with a wall of skulls. “ _Harmless?_ “

“They’re not in pain,” she shrugged. “Not anymore.”

Emma tore her eyes away from the decaying skulls, glancing around the surprisingly well-furnished room. A roaring fire, she was sure wasn’t there at first glance, crackled in the fireplace. Heavy tomes were left open on the single extended table in the room, decorated by tall, ever-burning candles. A massive cauldron sat on the table, boiling and toiling away. What looked to be a wall of post office boxes, gold-numbered and all, was the centerpiece of the room.

Regina had been watching her, waiting for a reaction. Her eyes flitted across the room, as if seeing it for the first time, unsure of the impression of fresh eyes.

She didn’t even _think_ of hiding away the skulls before inviting her down here.

“This place looks… cozy.”

“Honesty, Emma. Please.”

She turned to her with soft green eyes. “This place honestly looks cozy.” She tilted her head towards the massive tomes that lay open. “I could totally picture myself getting some light reading done down here. I was expecting corpses, so… massive upgrade.”

Regina smiled wryly, not completely sure if Emma was using light humor to negate the otherwise somber occasion, or to delude herself from the reality of what she was seeing. Or both. “I thank you for abstaining from driving a wooden stake through my heart, so far. Come, sit with me.”

They both sat down at the table, and Emma placed the alternate storybook in her lap while Regina faced her. “I believe it’s time that I tell you what I’ve been trying to accomplish. For your safety.”

“My safety,” she repeated, her tone only slightly mocking. “Even though you’re the Evil Queen without magic. Regina, my safety isn’t going to be priority when the memory walls collapse. You and Henry need _me_ for that. I mean…” her voice sunk into a whisper, “if we’re going for honesty, I’m not completely sure about breaking this curse to begin with.”

Regina blinked in surprise.

As soon as a few weeks ago, those words would have been the _only_ words she wanted to hear. The words she had been working for, _yearning_ for. It’s what the Evil Queen would’ve wanted.

She had no idea when they had become two separate people, with different goals. But it wasn’t what Regina wanted. Not anymore.

But she was curious. “Why?”

“Why? Seriously, you’re asking why?” She sounded like it was beyond obvious, but Regina wasn’t understanding yet. It must have shown on her face. “Regina, _everyone_ will want to _kill_ you. I can’t look Mary Margaret in the eye, even _now_. If she stops talking about curriculum and starts sharpening arrows or whatever, I’m going to _arrest_ the bitch.”

Regina’s eyes widened. “I thought you and Miss Blanchard were getting along?” As far as she knew, anyway. Emma had always known that her roommate was a sore subject, but she thought that Emma never brought her up in respect for her friend, Mary Margaret.

“I don’t think I need to explain why I’m not talking to fucking Snow White,” she rolled her eyes, and a terribly interesting epiphany occurred to Regina – Emma didn’t bring the teacher up in conversation, not to avoid hearing Regina disparage her, but because it was _at Regina’s request_.

She honestly hadn’t considered that. That someone would think about _her,_ above others, or even themselves.

“You’re worried for me.”

Emma’s lips thinned. “You sound surprised.”

“I am.” Even as she was saying it, it seemed like a foreign concept to her. “I usually have to order people to do that for me.”

“Protecting you is literally the job you gave me,” she gently reminded her. “But I took it willingly. I want to keep it as long as you want me to. And I don’t think either of our jobs are gonna last long after the curse breaks.”

Regina nodded. “And that leads me to my plan. I’ve been… looking forward to this, you could say, for some time. You truly are the savior, Emma, and you will one day end my curse. This avenue was unexpected, but it is the best possible scenario.”

“I don’t _want_ to break the curse, though.”

“I don’t think we have a choice. That’s how fate works. We can’t choose what happens. But we can change the how and when, if we’re careful. And, I suppose we already have an idea of how.” She leaned forward and placed her hand on Emma’s thigh, right below where the storybook lay. “Perhaps, one day, the kiss will work. And just because the curse will break, doesn’t mean the magic will return; It won’t, and I’ll be powerless. So, please, Emma, there are things you need to know, to _see_.”

“You’re afraid of false hope,” she muttered, placing her hand over her Regina’s. “I’m afraid, too. This is all starting to become _too_ real. Hell, you’re starting to make me afraid of kissing you, if you keep reminding me that it might lead to getting you killed.”

She managed a tight smile. “Perhaps, for now, not kissing would be best. Until we’re ready.”

Emma shook her head. “Tell me your plan, first. Before we make drastic decisions.”

Regina nodded towards the letterbox wall, labeled from 1 to 108. “Those containers each held the heart of my subjects, prisoners, and influencers – war generals, spies, captains… I have quite the collection.”

Emma tilted her head curiously. “I read about it, but that’s… macabre, that you brought that over. I thought your mother was the Queen of Hearts?”

“From what I hear, she’s moved on to heads. But hearts are reliable. Elegant, in a way.”

“And… you’re going to show me one?”

“If you would like to see one.”

She sighed to herself. “Still better than a body, I guess.”

“We can take our time,” Regina stressed, worried at the strain in her Sheriff’s voice. “I’m not exactly keen on making you believe… in me.”

“You don’t think I believe in you?” She lifted the book off her lap, before dropping it back down with a heavy _plop_. Regina winced. “Lady, I didn’t read through all this because I wanted to ‘see what happens next’. Believe me ‘Gina, I wasn’t interested in the narrative, I was invested in the _character_. I believe that you went through everything in this book. I don’t doubt that for a second, and I haven’t since I started reading it.”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “Then I am at a loss. You believe in magic, and my spells have no effect on you?”

“You tried a spell on me?”

“Of course not – the tree you tried to slaughter. I put a powerful protection spell on it. It should have killed you.”

“That’s a little bit over the top, don’t you think?”

“It was one of the few things I brought over from the curse. Other than Rocinante, I’ve had that tree since my childhood. And I’ve killed for less.”

“Oh. Then, I guess I should feel honored.”

“I don’t understand. I didn’t alter that spell for you. Unless your axe was enchanted, there was nothing I did, or could’ve done, had the spell reacted the way it should’ve. Do you feel honored by pure, dumb luck?”

“No, not that – you didn’t want to kill me after… I almost chopped down your childhood tree.” She looked away from her, suddenly feeling the guilt full-force. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

“If I recall correctly, you were trying to get my attention.” Trailing her fingers up the lapels of her leather jacket, she smirked. “You did not fail, Miss Swan.”

Emma gave her a guilty smile. “A sane person has every right to file charges.”

“Normal people are often sane,” Regina agreed. “Or so I’ve been told. As for my list of charges, you can add organ harvesting to the list. How will you respond, Sheriff?”

“I think…” she glanced at the heart collection. “I think I want you to show me. I think I need to see it.”

“Very well.” She stood, and made her way towards the collection. “In the car, you asked how I was so sure I could trust a stalker and a thief around our son. I don’t.” She pulled the box labeled ’88’ from the slot, and the simple wooden box she produced gave Emma pause. Her eyes were transfixed on the box, as Regina held it gently in her hands, and before she even saw the heart, she was jolted into the reality of what all of this truly meant.

The bright red organ pulsed with radiance in the Queen’s hand, and Emma saw her eyes alight with a joy she had rarely seen in the woman, most of those times from that very day. “The heart of a real boy,” she whispered, almost cooing to the thing, like Emma had seen her hold Emmeline. “The heart of Pinocchio. A puppet again. My puppet.” She sounded proud, lost in herself. Lost in the Evil Queen nostalgia.

For a second, Emma thought it might have been too much for her to handle. But then she thought of something. “Could he, by any chance, be the one that wanted to meet with Henry a few days ago? The one who was stalking me?”

Regina blinked, coming back to herself. She sent a strange look Emma’s way. “Stalking you? I had my reporter keep a… very non-intrusive eye on you, to protect you from any of Gold’s associates.”

“Yeah, we _have_ to talk about boundaries later. But does he have anyone working for him? Black leather jacket, rides a motorcycle?”

“Ah. Yes.” She offered up the heart. “The _other_ true believer in this town.”

She reached out with tentative hands, before she pulled back, as if burned. “What do you _do_ with it? Something magical, I hope, unless you tell me that’s your secret to your turnovers.”

“I often put love in everything I bake. I didn’t say it had to be my own.” She grimaced when Emma began to look horrified. “ _Relax_ , dear. I’m not a cannibal. You say he was following you?”

“Yeah,” she relaxed, forcing the terrible image of her feasting on still-beating hearts with cinnamon topping out of her mind. “Following us. At first, I thought he was looking for a scoop. Seriously, you had me _followed_?” Regina expected much more vitriol behind the words, but Emma sounded much more amused than she should have been.

 _‘She knew. Of course she knew.’_ “For your safety,” Regina insisted, and it was… _odd,_ to argue against a woman who held a heart in her hand. “I don’t regret it, Emma. Gold has something up his sleeve, and curse or not, he is a threat to _everything_.”

“I can handle him.” She sounded far more confident than she was, but the more pages she had read of Regina’s book, she fought the temptation to lock herself in there with the bastard. “He doesn’t have magic, right? He’s harmless.”

“I don’t have a doubt in my mind that he knows how to bring magic to a land without. He always has a plan, and he would never abandon his power. And while he may not have magic, I’m sure that he somehow regained his memories. He arranged for Henry’s adoption, Emma. He arranged for me to adopt the Savior’s son.”

“That’s… a heavy coincidence.” Regina gave her an unimpressed look. “Okay, so another thing to worry about. Let’s try to focus on one thing at a time. Like the human heart in your hand.”

She didn’t seem to be in much of a rush, but she acquiesced to Emma’s request. Leaning close to the heart, almost kissing it, she whispered.

_“Come to the Cemetery. The Mills Mausoleum. I believe you made a promise, yesterday. Christmas has come early for you.”_

* * *

Emma had no qualms punching a wooden face. Hell, she wouldn’t have had a second thought about taking her axe to him as well.

The man had been _following_ her. Her and _Regina_. Her, Regina, and _their son_. She was ready to carve _all_ of their names into his _chest_.

Regina’s concerned voice made its way through the haze, a hand tightening around her reared back fist. Despite her ineffective punch earlier, Regina held steady against Emma’s strength, nails digging into her palms to unloosen her fingers.

Finally, Emma relented, pulling herself off of the unconscious man. “On second thought, I don’t think I’m ready to ask any questions.”

“I can see that.” Regina worried her lip, using both hands to sooth Emma’s twitching hand, tangling their fingers together. She looked down at the man, clearly unconscious, faintly bleeding, and it was uncanny to see wood _bleed_. “You do believe.”

Her glared softened, looking back at Regina. “Hm?”

“You can see him? As a puppet?”

“It’s kinda hard to miss. That explains the need for a helmet, I guess.”

“If you didn’t believe in magic, you wouldn’t be seeing his hollow mask, only what you choose to believe otherwise; a normal face. Ironic, considering his magic is fading.”

“So, he’s running on magic?”

“A very limited supply. From what I can see, it has to be fairy dust. That’s the only magic powerful enough to keep him alive for almost thirty years.”

“And the fairies – that would be the nuns, right?” At Regina’s nod, she continued. “Is that what you’re going to use him for?”

Regina blinked. “Use him for what? The magic?”

“Yes,” she looked just as confused. “Aren’t you going to just take what’s left of his magic?”

“I… I didn’t consider that.” It made sense. After he had served his purpose, she could simply sacrifice him and gain a fraction of her power, and if the source was potent enough, it could be the seed she needed for natural, exponential growth. She just needed a _taste_. “Tempting, but no.”

“Why not?”

She knew it had to be some kind of test. “Because he’ll die.”

“And?” If anything, she looked more confused. “He’s a puppet. Marco will just make a new one. Am I missing something, here?”

 _‘Oh. She’s serious.’_ “Emma, he’s a human, now.”

Emma looked down at him again. “Not for long.”

“Do you at least want to hear what he has to say? If he has his memories, and he didn’t come in the way everyone else did… then likely, he chose the route that you did, Emma. He might have been with you.”

Emma was already shaking her head vigorously. “No, I was abandoned on the side of the road. That’s what the paper said, the day of my birthday; Just me, a baby in a blanket. Unless you’re telling me that _he_ did that, in which case, I’m gonna need to borrow your gloves to ward off _splinters_.”

“Calm, my Sheriff,” she soothed, running her fingers up and down her arm, feeling the goosebumps rippling beneath her sensitive touch. “There’s a good chance that I might be to blame for that to begin with. You weren’t affected by the curse because you were sent away. I am most certainly the catalyst for your forced banishment.”

“But _you_ didn’t send me away. Trust me, there is no fate worse than being in the system.” She blew a blond strand away from her face, smiling gently when Regina reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “At least, when I gave Henry away, you had already adopted him. _Not_ fostering. Adopting is… concrete, permanent. It’s supposed to be, anyway. Fostering is like, renting a kid, and getting paid for it. That’s just how I saw it. 1 I never wanted him to live like I did.”

Regina nodded. Emma had opened up about her living conditions in the past; her many pairs of guardians and broken promises, and their jealous daughters and pervert sons. And that was when the system ‘worked’. “I know you didn’t have much choice, but I thank you every day for Henry. I couldn’t imagine him going through what you did.”

“Yeah. Didn’t know you’d take me seriously when I wished that he was raised like a prince…” And suddenly, she remembered the pure look of worry on his face when she wanted to ask him about her parents, and she froze.

“Emma? Darling, what?”

“I… um…” she cleared her throat. “Are you sure you’re an only child?”

“As far as mother told me. Why?”

“Henry looked terrified when I asked him about my family, so I just wanted to… you know, check. You know; Evil Queen, Savior, deep connection in a familial way, you not knowing where your mother is, all that convenient total opposites fairy tale bullshit; I needed to know it wasn’t leading to that. So, if you’re sure… thank _God_.”

“Henry was afraid to talk about your parents?”

“I think so. In front of you, specifically.”

“And your mind went to… we could be related?”

“What would you have thought?”

“That I might’ve killed them. _Obviously_.”

“Oh.” She blinked. “I mean, that’s not _as_ bad. I mean, that _would_ be bad, and absolutely terrible, but… at least you’re not my sister.”

“Your priorities are a _wonder_ to behold, Emma.”

“I don’t _know_ my parents. I know _you_ too well.”

“You don’t know your parents because I never gave you the chance. Regardless, my blonde, green-eyed, small-dimpled, square-jawed twin, there isn’t a way in hell that you or Henry could convince me that my mother could birth someone as good and pure as…” though it _would_ make sense, as to why Emma had reminded her of a much younger Regina, unaffected by her mother’s ‘teachings’ and punishments. And while she probably wouldn’t ever forgive herself if she was responsible for Emma’s miserable upbringing, the thought of kissing, caressing, loving her biological –

 _No_ , no. She was just filling in pretend gaps. She ended her thought with a grimace. “…as lovely, as you.”

“I do _not_ have a square jaw,” she pouted, rubbing her own chin, unaware of Regina’s passing crisis.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Dear, you have the jaw of a lumberjack. Fittingly.”

Emma chuckled, tightening her grasp on her girlfriend’s hand, rubbing circles on the back with her thumb. “You’re lovely too,” she whispered, gazing into her eyes. “And you’re good. Despite my insistence that we just, I dunno, use common sense. Especially when your life’s at risk.”

“If I might be responsible for your parents’ deaths; I feel like the Evil Queen. I choose not to kill Pinocchio; again, I still come out looking like the Evil Queen. I can’t win with you, Emma.”

“Oh, come on… you know what might make you feel better?”

“Let me guess – baking more turnovers?”

“No. Well, yeah, always. But no. A night out, you and me, in public. Think of how much fun you had on Miner’s Day. It doesn’t have to be a date. Or we don’t have to let it look like one. Just… think about it.” She tilted her head over to the unconscious puppet. “So, what’s your real plan? What’s he for?”

Regina filed away the idea of a date (because there was nothing else she could call it in her mind except a ‘date’) in favor of sharing her thoughts with Emma. “Well, Sheriff, we’ve made an agreement to work together, temporarily. Sidney Glass, my reporter, was meant to follow you from afar, and make sure Gold doesn’t have an assassin waiting in the wings. In his findings, he had discovered Mister Booth here, talking to our son and following us. I believe he’s been following you for much longer, since before you even arrived. I haven’t had the time to question him, we’ve been on a very tight schedule. I was preparing for a curse breaking, but it seems that has been delayed.” Without warning, she stomped, her platform boots striking the marble floor loudly. Emma flinched, and the man on the ground rattled, before he gasped, sitting up. “Good morning, willowy, weeping beauty.”

The man known as August Booth, formerly known as Pinocchio, wiped the blood from his face and grimaced. “Hell of a punch,” he moaned, before staring up at his captor with dead eyes. “I guess I deserved that. Emma? You’ve grown since we last met.”

She gave him a look, realizing the truth of Regina’s theory of her being followed long before she came to Storybrooke. “Considering that’s a lie, because I know you’ve been _following_ me, I’m surprised your nose hasn’t grown.”

“His mission,” Regina continued, slipping her hand into her coat pocket, “is to help Mister Glass restore the chaos that runs rampant under Storybrooke. August, like the ever-so-helpful puppet he is, has been stealing trinkets from Mister Gold’s shop since his arrest, and it gave me the wonderful idea of returning the items to their original owners, and cancelling any and all of Gold’s contracts. The vials, now that you have been assured of the authenticity, I have reclaimed. Block-brain wanted to find anything that could either kill me or cure him, so I should be thanking him for his forethought. Fortunately, he had no idea what anything did.”

August flinched at the glare Emma sent down at him. “So he _did_ , huh?”

She smirked, not aware of Emma’s simmering irritation, and continued. “I didn’t consider doing that to weaken Gold, until Booth told me he had the junk. We made an agreement that if he managed to run errands for me, I would return his heart, and reveal to you the truth. Purely by coincidence, you forced the issue. With an axe.” From her pocket, she dug out the heart of August Booth, as if it were a rock weighing her down, and she fucking _tossed it_ at him.

He didn’t seem too pleased at catching his own heart like a baseball, but it got a laugh out of Emma, and really, that’s what truly mattered to Regina.

He pressed it into his own chest, taking a refreshing gasp of air when he did so, and stood on shaky legs. “Emma – ”

August didn’t even know when she moved, but she was suddenly in front of him, punching him _again,_ and he tumbled back to the floor. “You better be goddamn lucky I didn’t bring my axe!”

He stared at her incredulously, holding his jaw. “What the _hell_ , Emma!”

“ _Sheriff_ Swan,” she growled, “And she is the _Mayor_ to you. If you disrespect her again, I will whittle you down to toothpicks.”

He glared at the scowling Sheriff, before he focused back on the terribly amused Mayor. “Give her back her heart! That was part of the deal!”

“I assure you, Mister Booth, I have no control over the Sheriff’s actions.”

Hanging onto the edge of the table, he stumbled to his feet. “Like I expected you of all people to keep your promise.”

“I’m going to ignore that,” she waved it off, moving to the cauldron. “It’s nearing Christmas, after all. This potion is the first time in years I’ve brewed anything, so consider this a high honor, kindling. Emerge yourself in the liquid, and soak for ten minutes.”

He eyed the boiling, purple substance from afar with distaste. “What does it do?”

“Explaining it to you will be wasted words. All you need to know is that it enhances the fairy magic running in your strings, and prolongs the potency of it.”

“And you can do that? With light magic?”

“I’m afraid not, Mister Booth. But I don’t think you have many options.”

A heavy silence fell between the three, and Emma took that moment to lean against the table, watching the man tense whenever she moved. She smirked, holding the same hard edge to her eyes, watching his every movement.

She didn’t remember him from the book, but she could bet that he was in the other one. Henry’s insistence that day, that this mystery man had the proof of the curse that could blow Emma away, had her convinced.

Emma watched as her lover grinned into the concoction, her teeth gleaming against the glow that came from within, knowing that she was restraining herself from letting out a gleeful bark of laughter at making her first potion in probably _years_ , and all she could really think of was how _beautiful_ she looked in purple.

“A _compulsion_ spell!” he suddenly exclaimed, snapping his fingers, and winced at the friction burn. He wiped his jeans, pointing his other hand at Emma. “That’s how you have her!”

Regina looked up, suddenly annoyed. “Seriously? You are _still_ on this, kindling? Again, and I can’t _believe_ I have to explain this, _Harry Potter isn’t real!_ “

“Assuming you didn’t try to follow us into my apartment,” Emma started, pushing herself off the table, “what the hell do you think our relationship is, buddy? You followed us on _dates_. I’m not a captive! Hell, I knew this town was ass backwards sometimes, but to not even be capable of understanding that _she’s my fucking girlfriend_ is beyond me. Did no one really give you the talk? Because I can’t promise I’m out of wood-based puns.”

“It’s an _illusion,_ Emma. You and her; it’s not real. Snap out of it!”

Her jaw dropped. “Regina, did the fucking puppet just tell me that _we’re_ an illusion?”

“Indeed he did, darling. Once a dummy, always a dummy, I suppose.”

Stop _calling_ her that! Emma, you have to listen to me! I don’t know what she has you under, but you need to wake up. You’re the _savior_ , and she’s the Evil Queen! She’s _controlling_ you! You’re not supposed to be… be…”

“Sleeping with the enemy? Deep under covers?” She frowned as he squirmed uncomfortably. “If you’re gonna throw accusations around, have the fucking balls to say it, _August_.”

“You don’t know what she’s _doing_ to you!”

“We both know what word he’s trying to use,” Regina muttered, looking back to her potion, “what he thinks I’m doing to you, without your consent. He doesn’t even know what the word truly _means_. This offer lasts for five more seconds, Booth; either get in, fully clothed if you don’t mind, or you can spend the rest of your existence trying to figure out your Savior’s state of mind from a drama class prop closet.”

 _“You_ – ”

“And if you say another word,” Emma forcefully interrupted, “I’ll glue your mouth shut and have her take what little magic you have left. If everyone else is this hostile, we seriously need every advantage we can get. Got it? Don’t answer. Just _get it_.”

He stared between the two, about to say something, and wisely, shut his mouth. Slowly, he approached the cauldron. He looked like a dead man walking, and Emma didn’t know if the potion was truly working, so maybe he was?

Emma and Regina weren’t blind to each other’s reactions. The Mayor could tell that Emma was getting furious at his words, and the Sheriff knew that Regina was letting his words discourage her. His promises and accusations meant nothing to them, but they knew that the rest of the town would soon follow, and well, an officer and a mayor did not bode well versus a literal town’s worth of a riot.

It led to a silent, painful understanding; until they had every advantage, and had complete control of the situation, the people couldn’t know about them.

Emma gave Regina a gentle smile, from across the room. It might have been a selfish thing to think, but she quite looked forward to having the Mayor to herself. “You know what? We just need a night out. Just you and me. We’ll bring Ruby along for cover. We’ll go to the Rabbit Hole; they haven’t called me in a while, but I should still show up, crack a few skulls. We need a girls night. What do you say?”

The brunette seemed to consider it. “Not a terrible idea, Miss Swan. I take it Miss Lucas knows about us?”

“Yeah, and Mary Margaret, but she’s – uh, not invited.”

“On the contrary, Emma. Yes, she can be quite annoying, but she can be entertaining in small doses. I enjoyed the last time we talked. She can get as red as one of my apples.”

August shook his head in clear disgust, muttering to himself.

Emma ignored him, sauntering over to her girlfriend. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you let loose, have a drink. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Because the last time I partook went _spectacularly._ You seem to keep giving me reasons to drink, Emma. Our son would not approve.”

“As long as he gets his book back, he’ll approve of anything.” She grinned against Regina’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist. “I think he likes this. Where we’re headed.”

“He’s not the only one,” the brunette admitted with a whisper, “but our support base is quite limited. As private as this arrangement will have to be for now… as careful as we’ll have to be in the future, I could spend a thousand moments like this. The quiet. The calm before the shit storm.”

She let out a bark of a laugh. “Madam _Mayor_! Language!”

Regina allowed herself a tiny smirk, before tilting her head towards the man currently stirring the cauldron with his finger, unaffected by the boiling purple bath. “You saw how he reacted. He only knew of me through stories told by his maker. Imagine the reaction from the people that _have_ crossed paths with me in that other time? ‘Shit storm’ is an _understatement._ We have to be careful. If the curse breaks, and the first thing _Snow_ sees is her roommate, someone very dear to her enemy, she’ll attempt to rescue you, or interrogate you, or some such nonsense. I have no doubt that she knew who the savior was. Rumple was kept in her dungeons, after all.”

“ _Relax_ , baby. I had a lock on my door installed last week. And I’ll be happy to take up your offer of a room for a few days. Snow won’t get to me. And I’ll be _damned_ if she tries to get to you.”

_“What the hell?! You’d make her kill her own freakin’ mother?!”_

Emma groaned out loud at the intruder’s outburst. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking a bath? Why are you… talking… _what?”_

_**“WHAT?!”** _

Her voice cracked through the room like lightning, and Emma felt the hairs on her arm stand up from the static.

August gulped. Hell, _Emma_ gulped. Regina stared a hole in him, intense brown eyes sparkling with fury, and Emma was absolutely sure that if she had an _ounce_ of magic, he really would’ve been set on fire. “ _Explain yourself!_ “

He raised his hands, his singular fleshy digit dripping with slime. “You never told her?”

“ _I didn’t know,_ ” she screamed, and Emma didn’t need her power to know she was genuine. “Snow had a _child_?!”

“She had been keeping it under wraps – threw out all the mirrors in the castle. She kept herself isolated, I didn’t even see her in the last six months before the curse. The King put you in the wardrobe, Emma, and we were sent… here… ish. Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have deserted you like that. But this was _never_ what your mother wanted! This is _her_ fault! And she’s turning you against us! If you don’t kill her now, and if you let this witch _win_ , then a _ll of this would’ve been for nothing!_ “

He probably expected a lot of things. He expected another hail of fists, or having his heart ripped out again. At this point, it was the bravest thing he had ever done to stand up to the Evil Queen in such a way.

He certainly didn’t expect to see her fall into her seat, shaking and gasping.

August recoiled, not quite comprehending what he was seeing.

And then he couldn’t comprehend anything at all, for the very next second, Emma was on him, and he blacked out before he hit the ground. Even if part of him expected it, he still – somehow – didn’t see it coming.

* * *

Emma winced, holding her bruised hand to her chest. She jumped as a hand touched her shoulder, her adrenaline high, and it didn’t soften any less when Regina appeared at her side. “‘Gina? I… I didn’t hear you.”

She looked _devastated._ Her nose was red, almost as red as her eyes, and if the tears were any indication, she was _hurt,_ instead of the rage that she had projected earlier. “You couldn’t hear anything, Emma. You… made true on your promise.” Silently reaching over, her gloved fingers stroked Emma’s knuckles, pulling back when the blonde hissed. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I lost my cool. Just hearing him talking about my _parents,_ how he’s been following me like the worst fucking guardian angel ever, and what he said about you… I really need to stop getting angry.”

“Your hands agree.” Barely considering her actions, she bit the tip of her tight leather gloves, pulling them off her fingers and pocketing them, before holding up her hands again, in a placating gesture. “Try again?”

Her hands trembled as she held it out, and Regina’s fingers twitched in sympathy at the bloody fist; tight, covered in splinters and torn flaps of skin. For a moment, she forgot about her worries, her pain, and shed tears for the pain that she saw. “Oh, Emma…”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Then why can’t you open it and make a palm?”

“It hurts when I move it,” she explained in a small voice. “Could you move yours?”

“When I punched you? No. Your jaw, Emma, was made of steel. It seems your fists are made of the same substance. Not much can break enchanted wood. Despite my threats, there isn’t much I can do against it, even in this form. Magic can’t fix this. Not any magic that I can get a hold of.” She brought Emma’s knuckles to her lips, careful to avoid the wood fragments sticking out. “So unless you prefer a visit to the hospital, we need a pair of tweezers. And perhaps a safety pin. I just need to burn the tip and – ”

“No,” Emma hissed, forcing her hand open. “Do it again.”

She blinked in confusion, her reddish eyes blinking away moisture. “Do what again?”

“ _Kiss_. Do the kiss again.”

“Emma…”

“I _felt_ something. Maybe it was just a tingle, but maybe it was…” she searched for something to say, but the words couldn’t come out. She choked on her own tongue, sounding on the verge of panic, like whatever she said next was something she wasn’t looking forward to admitting. Something she thought she could avoid. “ _Please_.”

Regina wasn’t sure herself, but luckily for her, she didn’t need to say anything. Eyeing the hand that, she reluctantly admitted, wasn’t swelling as much as it did seconds ago, and was starting to regain a bit of paleness, she tenderly brushed her lips against her trembling hand, _concentrating,_ holding onto trembling digits with both of her own hands, and she remembered when Daniel had done the same, asking for her hand in marriage, and how she had never felt such a love since.

She felt something even _stronger,_ now. Like a powerful barrage of something she knew was familiar, and she felt a rush to her head, and her heart beat so painfully she was terrified it would come out of her chest on its own.

She broke her lips away, falling to a knee. She heaved and gasped, her eyes on the marble floor. She couldn’t think, she could barely breathe.

Her heart was _racing,_ and throbbing with _pain,_ and she didn’t know why. She had never really known why.

She had felt this strange feeling five times before. The first was when her mother crushed Daniel’s heart, and she felt a part of her own disappear and whittle away. The second was when she terminated a part of herself – something she could never get back – her ability to carry a child. The third was when she had to kill her own father, and her steed, to ensure her happy ending.

The fourth was when she had seen Emma for the second time, and before she could even think about herself, or her own story, she found herself intertwined in another’s, if only for a lone, lustful afternoon.

The fifth, and last time, was when she had realized that her happy ending was within her reach. A chance at happiness, _real happiness_ , could come her way.

When Henry held his ‘baby sister’, their goddaughter Emmeline, she was too worried that he might drop the girl, teaching him the correct way to cradle a newborn’s head. When Emma held the baby in her arms, Regina’s breath was taken away.

Emma had once admitted that she never even got to hold Henry. She was so full of regret at the decision to give him away, she couldn’t even look into his precious eyes and say goodbye, or hello. She couldn’t blame Emma; when she first looked into her brand new son’s hazel eyes, and said hello to him, despite _everything_ they’ve been through, she accepted that she could _never_ let go of her baby boy in that moment.

She had the same weakness for his mother, funnily enough.

The moment she saw her holding that little girl, Regina knew that Emma would have been a wonderful mother, had circumstances been different.

When Regina held little Emmeline, the tiny, vulnerable product of true love, from _Cinderella_ , in the trusted arms of the woman formerly known as the Evil Queen, she truly felt like she was part of a family.

Even when she held Henry for the first time, she was afraid of change; terrified of the consequences she knew she would face. There was hope, but more than that, there was _fear._

When she held Henry, she was afraid of the Savior, that she would learn to know as Emma. But when she held Emmeline, she had _Emma,_ staring at her with the same look of adoration she shared earlier, and suddenly, that feeling of fear and hopelessness, wasn’t there.

Hope. Love. Happiness. All within her grasp. All bundled against her chest like Emmeline had been. All held tenderly in her hands, against her lips, filled with enchanted shards of wood.

Perhaps, at the time, Snow White’s little speeches meant nothing to her. Her _daughter_ , however, told her in a way that was _so_ much louder than words.

Emma Swan. The Savior. Henry’s real mother. Snow White’s daughter. The deciding factor of her… Ending.

Her true love. Of that, she was now certain.

But now she was paying the consequences of that revelation.

Emma gripped her hand tighter, even as the wooden needles fell away from her repairing skin, and pulsed back to life. “Regina!”

“I’m fine,” she lied, practically hanging off her hand.

Effortlessly, she pulled her up and carried her in her arms, bridal style. Regina was limp in her embrace, barely having the strength to wrap her arms around Emma’s neck. “Sheriff… put me down…”

“If you could stand, I’d consider it.” Not even having the time to panic yet, she made her way towards the staircase. “But I can’t help but be worried when you lie to me. I think you overdid it.”

“Possibly,” she muttered, dragging her head up to Emma’s shoulder until, finally, it was too heavy to move anymore.

Emma grimaced as a sharp pain moved through her chest, half-way up the stairs. “‘Gina? Regina, talk to me!”

“Hold on, Emma,” she groaned, unlinking hands and grasping behind her. “In my purse… the polish…”

“I’ll get your purse later, I promise.”

“No… Emma…”

“Please be okay, Regina, please be okay… Please… please…”

“Calm, my Sheriff,” she whispered, brushing her hair back. She felt a drop of wetness hit her chin. “Emma?”

She kept muttering to herself, whispering again and again. When she reached the top of the stairs, she hugged the brunette to herself, trekking across the light snow, puffing as she huddled Regina’s shivering form against herself.

Panic had set in, and Emma was losing her mind.

“This isn’t how fairy tales work,” Regina whispered, her lips next to the blonde’s ear. “This isn’t how ours should work, Emma.”

She paused at the entrance to the cemetery, her run coming to a full stop. The car was in sight, now. She looked behind her, the mausoleum beyond her vision. “Your keys… they’re in your _purse,_ aren’t they?”

“Afraid so.” Her fingers ghosted over high, wet cheekbones. “Imagine them in your hand. Concentrate. My life depends on them, Sheriff. You have to believe…”

“Your life? _Regina?”_

“Believe, Sheriff.”

“I do, baby, I do, but…”

“Then _believe_. Like I believe in you.”

* * *

Believing in Regina was never the problem. Hell, believing in magic was easier than expected, after a time. After meeting the crazy characters this town had to offer, associating the unbelievable tales with a contextualized fiction became more of a mundane task, if anything else.

Believing in herself, however, was something that just wasn’t feasible.

It was why, even after all that had happened, she didn’t believe herself to be the Savior. It was, _clearly_ , the most impossible part of Henry’s story.

Emma the Un-adoptable, the Unlovable, the Improbably Gullible. She had plenty of nicknames – Savior just wasn’t one of them.

As she approached the car, she remembered another nickname. One that had inspired her, pushed her to do more. Made her believe.

Emma the fucking _Sheriff_.

She gently loaded Regina into the Mercedes, buckling her in before making her way to the driver’s seat.

Two people believed in her, without a doubt, from day one. One had called her the Savior, a fictional title with a warped sense of arrogant vigilantism and presumed uniqueness, and the other gave her a job that gave her _merit,_ a responsibility she never thought she could actually handle, and she wore her badge with pride. Emma Swan, Sheriff of Storybrooke.

Mayor Regina Mills. The Evil Queen. Her apparent mother’s worst enemy. The adoptive mother of her son. The woman who trusted her, and _loved_ her, and was _dying_ because she _believed_ in her.

So she believed in herself. For Regina’s sake.

The engine roared to life, before settling with a quiet purr, and Emma was out of the parking space and on the road before she remembered that there was still no key in the ignition.

Regina grinned weakly, her hand reaching over to squeeze Emma’s arm. “So you _do_ have magic. Product of True Love, indeed.”

“‘Gina? Stay with me… so that means I can help you, right?”

The brunette squeezed, making a barely audible sound. Emma drove faster.

The Mayor’s black Benz was recognizable in Storybrooke, to say the least. Iconic like her yellow bug, but in a different way. The few cars on the road parted quickly, nothing but emergency lights silently wailing as she sped through, and for as small a town as Storybrooke was, where everything was in walking distance, she swore that she felt like she was running laps around the place to get to the hospital.

“Any regrets?” she might as well have asked no one. “Because I have a few.” No response. “More than goddamn Sinatra,” she muttered, and felt grateful to get a hand squeeze. “Fairy Tales don’t end like this. They never do. We’ll be alright.” A reassuring hand squeeze. “Just hang in there. Please.” A faint hand squeeze. “I swear I’ll never ask for another turnover again. I’ll never ask for a raise,” she continued, not waiting for a response. “I won’t ask for new computers, or my own office, I’ll never do a single solitary activity with Henry without telling you about it, because I know you were upset about the whole baseball thing, and I’ll disown my fucking mom and – ”

“You’re rambling, dear. Don’t apologize for anything.”

It was weak, but she heard it. “Sorry.” Though she didn’t sound sorry. Though her voice was filled with tears, and remorse, she didn’t sound a bit sorry.

“I thought we talked about this. No regrets between us?” She squeezed her tense arms again. “You left your jacket in the mausoleum. You could get sick.”

“We’re heading to the right place for it. Can you please tell me what’s happening, and _why_ you’re dying?”

“Not dying. Old curse. Self-inflicted. Tell Doctor Whale. Heart condition.” She spoke in staccato breaths, wincing with every inhale. “He’ll know what to do. Hopefully.”

“Self-inflicted?”

“I’ve had a lot of regrets in my past.” She peeked her eyes open, and Emma could’ve swerved off the road if she saw the vulnerability in them. She forced her breathing to slow down. “I don’t want my last one being unable to tell you how much I _adore_ you, Emma.”

“It won’t be,” she promised quickly, her heart soaring. “It won’t be, ‘Gina. I promise you can tell me you love me as long as you want, anytime.”

“I feel honored.”

“But only if I get to do the same. Because unlike these fucking roads, love is a two-way. So, if you really love me, don’t die, okay?” She sniffed, more tears threatening to escape, but her smile was no less intoxicating. It was a Charming smile, no doubt about that anymore. But Regina only knew it as Emma’s. “Just stay with me. Promise I’ll love you back?”

She let out a chuckle, her arm falling to her seat belt when the Emergency wing came into view. “I’ll even do a pinky swear, Miss Swan.”

Admitting herself to a hospital, suffering from a decades-old curse, and possibly, a mannequin covered in very real blood on the floor of her wide open family mausoleum, full of spell books, potions and magic. Even if there was no curse, she wasn’t very sure she could emerge from this as the Mayor.

And yet, she would probably need surgery to remove the grin she had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: A Woman’s Right (hand).  
> Meaning: Emma’s Fist.  
> That’s the pun. For full context. I don’t like leaving mysteries. Shoutout to NXT’s Lacey Evans for the idea. For WWE Standards, that is a really fun pun that I appreciate.
> 
> (1) I am pretty sure “fostering” isn’t like that at all, and it sounds like a very cool thing to do, but according to Disney lore, all stepmothers are evil, and “temp” adoptions are all terrible. Emma’s unique views and insight do not reflect my own, unless you agree with her; in which case, you found one of my hidden agendas.
> 
> Please Review! Or else I'm gonna have to assume the lack of reviews mean either lack of interest or these chapters are just too goddamn long. Thank you, RonisGirlSQ, for being a rebel and leaving a review!
> 
> https://blog.rihaansfics.com/?p=2307 - Extended Notes on Emmalina.


	10. Heartless, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Love is a weakness,’ Regina had been taught, time after time. Never has that saying been proven more wrong, or right, or more appropriate, or less relevant. Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thanks for your support!

“I came as soon as I heard.”

Emma popped up, startled, almost reaching for her gun. “Mary Margaret?” She waited a beat, inspecting the pale woman, formerly known as one of the realm’s greatest trackers. “How did you find…?”

“Ruby called me,” she confirmed, and Emma shook her head, mentally slapping herself for her paranoia, before falling into her seat again. “How is she? What happened?”

“She’s stable. For now.” She didn’t even know what to tell Ruby when she called her earlier, but the Doctor had prepped a statement of her best guess. “It’s an acute heart condition. We’re still trying to figure out what it is, could be genetic. She doesn’t have a file here, you know. Neither of us like hospitals much.”

She didn’t reply immediately, hesitant eyes roaming over the resting Mayor, and Emma wondered if the pale woman felt a moment of déjà vu.

“She looks so peaceful,” the teacher whispered with a smile, and Emma couldn’t agree more; indeed she did. Regina didn’t particularly want any pills that Whale had offered, but with Emma’s assurance that she wasn’t going anywhere, Regina took the pain medication.

Emma was true to her word, sitting patiently with her through X-rays and a pulmonary exam, making sure her lungs weren’t affected. Regina almost needed a full diagnostic, having no medical history.

It was when he casually leaned against the monitor and suggested that she should strip down, when Emma casually pinned her badge to her shirt and demanded for a female doctor.

Doctor Whale was a medical professional, and a damn good surgeon. That didn’t excuse the fact that he looked far too happy to do his job, and while Emma had her suspicions on why he was so fascinated with the human body, having just added a classic movie directed by a ‘James Whale’ to their date night list, it didn’t make him any less creepy.

Resigning herself to ask Ashley about his professional conduct, and several other patients in town, they welcomed his replacement.

Doctor Gainsborough put Regina’s mind at ease – and that was a very good thing, because if Whale had pestered her any further, he would need the bed more than she did – and asked personal questions, questions she didn’t even know the answer to. Emma, essentially having her biography, answered medical questions with vague answers, and she went _somewhere_ to process the information.

Emma gave her sleeping beauty a look, shaking her tired head with worry.

They both knew that her pain wasn’t from medical origins, but she was unwilling to speak on the matter until they had the room to themselves. And Emma just didn’t have it in her to wake her up, because, as Snow White of all people mentioned, _she looked so peaceful_. It was a rare sight, nowadays.

Unfortunately, as the mayor, she was quite the celebrity, and nurses and patients alike were quick to pass by the door. She saw the light shift from footsteps at the bottom of the door every few seconds, and for how small the town was, the hospital seemed particularly busy that day.

Mary Margaret handed her a cinnamon candle from Miner’s Day, taped to a ‘get well’ card, fidgeting nervously. “Could you, um, not tell her I was here? I don’t want to end up ruining her recovery, somehow.”

_‘I’m… going to regret this.’_

“Wait,” Emma stopped her, standing up, finally letting go of Regina’s hand. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate the sentiment. Thanks.”

She looked unsure, but she nodded anyway. “I don’t think she likes me all that well. When I try to do something nice, it backfires – inevitably.”

“It’s complicated,” Emma slowly admitted. “You remind her of someone who looks like you, with longer hair. Got her boyfriend killed.” She felt a confusing pang of humor at the teacher’s gasp. “She doesn’t mean to resent you sometimes, but the similarities are so striking….”

“I see,” she concluded, her voice heavy with sympathy, and Emma wondered if she had accidentally alleviated the undeserved guilt Mary Margaret had burdened herself with for almost thirty years. She sent a silent apology to Regina, along with a promise to fix that later. “Thank you for telling me.”

“If you don’t mind,” Emma whispered, leaning in conspiratorially, “don’t act any different around her. You won’t be doing yourself any favors.”

“I suspect that neither will you, for telling me,” she said knowingly, and Emma’s embarrassed grin was all she needed as an answer. “I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

“Actually… do you think you could watch over Henry for a day or two? I don’t know how long Regina will be here, and I doubt she’ll want to go home alone. Just a few days; he’ll take my room and everything, and I’ll replace everything he eats.”

“O-okay.” Her eyes flitted over to the Mayor. “Of course I will, but will she be okay with that? I mean, I know you’re his birth mother, but – ”

“I’m sure. And – don’t tell Henry yet, please? We’d like to tell him ourselves.”

The woman Emma had come to know as Snow White, her mother, eyed her curiously. Mary Margaret knew Regina, or at least she thought she did. She knew how private Regina was, and how she guarded her son above all else.

Within two short months, she wasn’t so sure she knew the woman at all. And Emma, despite some slight hostility in the past few days she couldn’t explain, had changed the Mayor for the better.

She only _wished_ she could have found a love like that, out of nowhere.

She said her goodbyes, and with one more look at the resting Mayor, she left.

Emma made her way back to her seat, pocketing the card and placing the candle on her nightstand next to a rather exotic-looking flower, clasping Regina’s hand once again.

“She’ll never keep that promise, Emma.”

Emma’s head shot up, before she grinned. “Hey, ‘Gina.”

Tired as she appeared to be, she seemed to de-age under Emma’s admiring gaze. “My sheriff,” she whispered, her voice dry, smiling gratefully when she spied an ice-cold glass of water next to her. “I see you’ve been busy revealing my secrets. Just like a Charming.”

“You’re _already_ holding my heritage against me? At least wait until we get into a fight to start pulling out grenades.”

She sat up to take a sip. “Please, Emma. If I were to compare you to _them_ seriously, then I must absolutely _loathe_ you.” She smiled weakly. “Not that I could find anything to compare.”

“Just wait until I do something stupid. I’ve been told I have a thick skull.”

“My hand certainly remembers.” She frowned. “What has become of our mannequin acquaintance?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Probably dead.” She raised her recently damaged and healed hand. “I think I stole his magic for a few minutes, there. Might’ve been in the splinters. It’s how I got you here, so… no regrets.”

“Do you honestly think that, or do you _know_ that?”

“I know it. He’s made of magic. I punched his face in. Then I had magic. Isn’t that how that works?”

“You might not like the answer.” At Emma’s curious frown, she hesitated slightly, before continuing. “You need magic to take magic. Punching him in the face might let magic escape, but it can’t be harnessed by mortals. You, my dear Emma, are no mere mortal. You’re the result of true love, and sometimes, that results in natural power. _Your_ magic broke his enchanted face to begin with. It’s how you were able to heal my hand, before. You could have been using magic all your life, Emma.” Through her speech, Emma’s frown morphed from something less curious, and more… gross. _Disgusted._ “Darling?”

“So, my guns…” she lifted her arms, still bare, and flexed. “They’re not guns at all? They’re… wands? I’ve been living on a _crutch_?”

“Miss Swan, my tree was almost half-way down on the first swing. My fist _shattered_ on your _jaw_. You’re not living on a crutch, Emma. When I had magic, I couldn’t slice down trees. Yours has been lying dormant all your life, manifesting itself as other strengths. In your case… your strength. It’s what you wanted as a child, correct?”

“…Yeah.” She collapsed into herself. “Yeah. To defend myself, and people who need me.”

“Like a Savior would.” She smiled knowingly. “You are plenty strong on your own, Emma. The magic doesn’t enhance the definition of your precious ‘guns’, or you’d be looking quite large and grotesque, considering the magic you already demonstrated. Your magic is an extension of you, not like a crutch, but a limb. Just like you protect other people, it protects you. It does not define you. It never has. You define it.”

“My magic doesn’t define me,” she paraphrased slowly, testing it on her tongue. “But… seriously, how could it not? I had this _thing_ inside me all my life, protecting me. Just… if I had it all this time, does that mean I still have it? Could I use it? To heal you?” She looked down, and Regina was suddenly reminded that she was lying in a hospital bed. “To protect you?”

Her mouth grew dry again at the statement, the implications behind her words, and took another sip of water. “Careful, Emma. I might start to _expect_ that response from you. ‘ _How can my loyal sheriff best protect her mayor?_ ‘”

“Or how can this knight best protect her queen.” She reached over, stroking her cheek. It was her first time recognizing that title, and just saying it aloud sounded more than natural. It sounded… right. “Regina. Tell me what I can do. Can I give you some of my magic, like what we were gonna do with Pinocchio? Can I heal you?”

“If only it were that simple. But I’m afraid the situation has been… complicated.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure, yet. I need you to do something for me, Emma. I need my purse, in the study. There’s a very important potion in there.”

She pouted cutely. “Is there anything I can do where I _don’t_ leave you alone here?”

“I’ll miss your presence too, sheriff. This place makes me anxious, I admit, and the pills didn’t help much. But I think I’ll survive, and behave, as long as you scare away the pests that float around my door.”

“Hm… I _have_ been waiting to do that…”

“I’ll patiently await your return,” she quasi-agreed, her cinnamon eyes twinkling.

“Jeez, lady, I didn’t even say I was going yet. You’re very presumptuous.” She stood, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “You, Henry and I are going to have a long talk about assuming things. Sleep on it. I’m gonna go get a cup of coffee. See you in… maybe thirty minutes.”

Regina gave an unladylike snort. “The key is in the purse. Don’t forget to lock up,” she reminded her, and Emma waved over her shoulder, opening the door and quickly closing it behind her.

She stalked through the hallway, deliberately and slowly, giving anyone that looked even remotely curious a poisonous glare. Some scampered, some retreated into the rooms of their loved ones, and some ducked into the restroom, hiding their face.

Emma did this three more times, before rounding the corner of the hallway, and leaned back against the wall. She sucked in a deep breath, slumping into herself.

“Snow White’s my mom,” she muttered. “Snow White is my _mom_. My fucking… _Jesus._ “

It was the first of many problems she had confronted herself with that day. Her frustration, she had let out on _Pinocchio_ , of all people. If she hadn’t done that, then Mary Margaret might not have been so lucky. Fortunately, she was feeling somewhat regretful, and _very thankful_ that Regina was still breathing, lying in front of her, that she would have given _Leroy_ a hug if he came to visit the Mayor. While the news of the black Mercedes speeding through town, currently parked in Storybrooke General Hospital’s parking lot, became the hot topic, she wasn’t getting visitors, besides a representative from the Daily Mirror, which Emma was quick to turn away.

She didn’t have an issue with ‘Mary Margaret’. The unassuming teacher was a good friend, and despite Regina’s warnings, and her own early suspicions, before Emma knew the truth of everything, she was a reliable roommate, who didn’t complain when looking after Henry (because who wouldn’t be happy to be visited by their grandson, she reminded herself) and always left the apartment happily when she and Regina had a steady date night – and she suspected the teacher of having a regular date of her own, in the meantime.

She let out a rough breath. Mary Margaret knew she was dating Regina, and while Emma had informed her about the ‘pause’ in their actual dating, she didn’t hide her affection for the woman in the hospital bed, holding her hand and stroking her short brown hair.

If Mary Margaret knew _now_ , would _Snow White_ know when she woke up? What would she say, and more importantly, what would she do?

Emma knew the side she was on. That in itself, wasn’t much of a quandary for her. But even though her mother abandoned her, she didn’t want her to be an enemy. She rather liked the friend she made in the schoolteacher. They weren’t the best of friends, but she was a nice woman, and if it weren’t for Emma’s blatant bias, they would have gotten along even better, she’d bet. Everyone loved Mary Margaret, it seemed.

She didn’t dwell on that thought for long.

She had an idea where her father was, or rather, his state of existence. Dead, probably. She’d have been lying if she admitted to wanting to meet him.

Curse or not, she didn’t deserve to be abandoned all those years ago. No one did. She held no sympathy or compassion for Snow White, or Prince David. Mary Margaret was innocent, until she woke up. Losing her husband, and her daughter, _again_ , was punishment enough for her. Until it wasn’t; that entirely depended on Snow’s first course of action with Regina. For some reason, Emma didn’t believe the apparently fearless, headstrong woman would go quietly, or leave them alone.

She looked down at her hands. Like mother, like daughter, apparently.

The orphaned survivor was always strong, unnaturally so. She’d won every fight she could remember, and had protected herself, and others, from many hands-y individuals, ‘family’ or otherwise.

And sure, she’d been punched. Kicked. Cut. And she always came out the victor, some way or another. Sure, she’d feel it the next morning, but not as much as she’d thought. It certainly wasn’t as bad as a hangover.

She had healed Regina earlier that day, with magic, _apparently,_ and a kiss. And Regina had healed her hands, with _no magic_ , and a kiss.

So what the hell was all of this supposed to mean?

The Sheriff shook her head, unsure, and _tired._ She didn’t even know how to get back to the morgue and back without a car, and she wasn’t sure if she could perform another key-less miracle run with the Mercedes again.

Resigning herself to a lecture of epic proportions, she dug her phone out, and made a call.

She returned to the room within ten minutes, and Regina blinked, confusedly, not even close to falling asleep again. “Did you really just go get coffee?”

“Ah, no. I, uh, sent someone instead.”

She thought the mayor was pale before, but whatever color she retained through rest, drained from her face. “Emma! This isn’t something I’d like Henry to know about!”

“I know, I know. I didn’t send Henry. I sent Ruby. I want her to know.”

She looked truly bewildered. “You want us to put our trust in Snow White’s _most loyal pet_?”

“No. I’m entrusting an order to my deputy, and your hired enforcer. She’s good friends with Mary Margaret, sure, but she’s not going to start freaking out about someone she doesn’t truly know. She’s seen your steps towards good along with me. We can trust her, ‘Gina. And if she doesn’t, well, that’s on me. I’ll handle it.”

Regina looked unsure, but she saw that Emma looked absolutely positive. “And _how_ will you handle it, Sheriff Swan?”

“I arrest her. Until we settle all of this, and until the curse breaks, I have to detain her, like I will with… _mom_ , if they pose a threat to either of us, or Henry. There is _no way_ I’ll put you or him in danger, Regina. Please trust me, on that.”

She bit her upper lip, sliding her tongue along her scar – a habit she had picked up whenever she was nervous. “I trust you, sheriff. As always, my life is in your hands.”

Disaster successfully averted (something she partially attributed to the medicine), She made it to her side and plopped down in the chair, taking Regina’s offered hand in her own. “Speaking of promises… I don’t think either of us said what we wanted to say, you know, when we got here.”

Regina rolled her eyes at the blatant diversion, but was a small bit grateful that she seemed willing to discuss their earlier revelations. “If you’re expecting an _actual_ pinky swear, Emma, I don’t think our love runs that deep quite yet. We’ve only known each other two months.”

The blonde chuckled; at least her sense of humor hadn’t slept. “Oh, I agree. We’re new, and fresh, and we should dip our toes into this, because _now_ is definitely a good time to start. Pinky swears are sacred oaths, practically magical, and… I’m a realist, baby.” That got a good laugh out of the brunette, and Emma allowed herself a sort of prideful feeling, at getting the woman to relax in a _hospital,_ of all places.

“Regardless…” cinnamon eyes locked onto sky green orbs. “I don’t want any regrets between us, Emma. Are you sure about this? I… now you know the truth about your family. I directly caused your childhood. I could _never_ apologize enough for what I’ve done to you. Please think about what you truly want before you make a decision.”

Emma had suspected that the question was on her mind since August Booth said what he said, and after… everything, she had done. It was hardly a choice, anymore. And perhaps, a part of Regina already knew that. She just wanted to hear it. Not that Emma minded; she wanted to say it.

“You know, it’s funny,” she whispered, more to herself than the brunette, but she hung onto every word, nonetheless. “For how much I’ve been searching for a family, I’m really freaking good at pushing them away. I guess I got that from my parents, huh? But I made my choice, just like they made theirs. Just like I hope you made yours?”

Regina’s breath caught. Perhaps she didn’t know.

“I was an orphan,” Emma continued, smoothing back the Mayor’s hair once more. “And now I have too much family. Of course, I’d _like_ to hear her side of the story, and read Henry’s book, but it doesn’t really change my choice. It’s gonna take a long time for her to earn my _respect_ , let alone my _adoration_. You got both from me a day after knowing you, before I even found your book. I’m not saying you won by default, Regina. But I was rooting for you since the beginning. You won by a freaking landslide.” She rolled her eyes. “Boy, did that sound better in my head.”

“It was perfect,” she whispered, rolling to her side to face the blonde. “Perfect, dear Emma Swan.”

“I trust her with Henry,” she confided, and Regina raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “I know. Weird, right? She’s a great caretaker. It’s strange – to trust Mary Margaret, and not trust her alter ego. They’re the same person, but I can’t really see it that way.”

“As loath as I am to admit it, Mary Margaret is someone you can easily trust, because Snow White is a good person. If anything, I would accuse her of being too trusting of the wrong people. Her father … never showed her his darker side. She could never see the evil in people; until me, of course.”

She shivered. “I’m sorry. For a whole different host of reasons.”

“Don’t apologize for your ancestors. He didn’t raise you, he never knew you. You have his genes, but you are _not_ him. I don’t even see a passing resemblance.”

Her eyes were disbelieving, filled with doubt. Regina couldn’t blame her. “Do you think about him? When we’re together?”

She considered the question, blinking slowly. “You help me forget.” She took a deep breath. “If I’m reminded of Leopold every time I see you, Emma, then naturally, I would see those same features in Henry. I _refuse_ to see _him_ in Henry.”

“You _know_ that’s different, ‘Gina. What he did to you, and what we do together – ”

“Are opposite sides of completely different spectrums. I’d rather not talk about it here,” she grimaced, eying the hospital room around her, “but there is _nothing_ you can do to me that will remind me of that… man.”

“Scum. You meant ‘scum’.” Regina grinned at that. “I’m glad. I don’t want to cause a trigger one day, or make you have regrets.”

“I haven’t with Henry,” she repeated. “I won’t with you.”

“Good.” She pursed her lips. “So Henry knew? That his grandma was Snow White?”

“I suppose he did. It would explain not wanting to tell me about it. Would you have beat my son into a bloody pulp if he had broken the news himself?”

“You think that’s why I cut the puppet’s strings? ‘Gina, I did it because he made you cry. And… he _did_ imply that he deserted me, and then stalked me, my entire life.”

“That’s what he said? I was preoccupied.”

“Yup,” she said simply, wondering if Regina was going to open up about that moment; the moment the usually strong, unbreakable woman _cried,_ broken down like she probably should have done in therapy, in a more controlled environment when Emma was more concerned and caring about her, and less worried about literally striking down her enemies.

“You already know what I’m going to say, Emma. I cried because life is cruel, and poetic, and terribly ironic. I cried because I can never escape the fate that ties me to Snow White. I knew you had to make a choice. The moment I healed your hand, I knew you were still on my side. I apologize for doubting you.”

“If we’re throwing around apologies, I have a list. Forefront is for my family. They’re all the fucking _worst._ Except Henry, but he _can_ be a tool sometimes…”

“That’s my son you’re referring to.”

“Except when he’s being a tool. Then he’s my son.”

She laid back on her adjustable bed, considering the supposed arrangement. “Deal.”

“Glad we can agree on that.” She looked towards the door. “Think anyone’s coming back?”

“Perhaps you scared the doctor away? You forget how intimidating you can be, especially with a weapon. Not to mention your ‘guns’.”

“Look, lady, when you’ve got good luck charms hanging off your shoulders for life, you tend to give them nicknames.”

“… So you have _nicknames_ for them?”

“I’m gonna go check on her,” she abruptly stood up, averting her eyes, still feeling the Mayor’s amused gaze on her. “Try to get some rest, okay? And please tell the doctor what’s wrong with you, this time. Before it spikes, or whatever it did back there.”

“It’s a self-inflicted problem, Emma, cast fifty years ago. I don’t remember the details, so I don’t know how to diagnose it. There is nothing here that can remedy it properly. I can explain it when I get my purse.” She was sincere, but to Emma, she never sounded more stubborn.

She sighed restlessly. “I’ll give Ruby a call, and see if she’s close by. Do you need anything?”

“I need to get the hell out of here. But I would like a cup of ice.”

“Right away, my queen,” she gave a tiny bow, her grinning head up, and Regina’s heart fluttered.

Even though it was left unsaid, and completely unmentioned for selfless purposes, she _really_ wanted to kiss Emma again.

Licking her dry lips, Emma turned away and left the room. _‘Jesus, even in a hospital bed, she can still look like that…’_

If she hadn’t known about Regina’s fear of hospitals, she would have absolutely requested her to wear a mandated gown with an open back, for a good photo op. Currently, she was dressed in her usual pantsuit and purple blouse, not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle to be seen on the reclining bed.

The painful image of her fully dressed, sleeping peacefully, impeccably perfect, almost reminiscent of a funeral, was thoroughly destroyed by her light snore, and she was grateful for it.

She pulled out her cellphone again, and made another call.

_“Mom?”_

“Henry. How are you?”

_“Uh, good. You went somewhere with mom?”_

“Yeah. We had a little heart-to-heart. Henry, please be honest with me. _Please_ tell me that being Snow White’s daughter is the biggest bomb I have to drop today.”

_“You… you heard about that? Sorry. Yeah, that’s about it. How did she handle it?”_

“As expected.”

_“Ouch. Sorry, Ma.”_

“Don’t be. It’s all good, now. Look… thanks, kid, for warning me. I meant to ask you while I was there, but your mother wanted to show me something. We might be late, so Mary Margaret is coming to pick you up.”

 _“… And Mom_ agreed _to that?”_

“I think she figured out the problem with the curse, and we’re working on it. You better believe you’re gonna be here with us when it’s all figured out, and not a moment after.”

_“So you’ll come with us?”_

She blinked. “Come with you where? Where are we going?”

_“Oh. Um. Never mind.”_

“Henry…”

 _“Ask mom about it,”_ he said quickly, _“it’s something you have to ask her about.”_

It sounded entirely too cryptic to her, but she didn’t pester him further. “How much does Mary Margaret know?”

_“Uh… she knows that she’s Snow White. She knows that Prince Charming is her true love, but that makes her sad for some reason, so I stopped bringing it up. She knows that mom is the Evil Queen. I told her that you’re her daughter, and I think that’s when she started ignoring me. I don’t even think she remembers that, now.”_

_‘Wouldn’t that be convenient?’_ “Okay,” she said aloud, but mostly to herself. “That’s good, I think. Try not to tell her anything else. We figure this out, and make a plan, together. Cool?”

_“Super cool. Can I speak to mom?”_

“She’s asleep. I’ll tell her to call you when she wakes up.”

_“But it’s the middle of the day. Why is she…? Oh. **Gross** , Ma!”_

“We were doing _research_ , Henry.”

_“I don’t care what you call it, it’s still gross.”_

“That’s not what I … yeah, sure. See you later, kid. And try to behave. And if you see Grandma try to reach for her bow and arrow, kick her in the shin and run.”

_“Got it. Bye. Love you.”_

She grinned against her phone, a prideful feeling beginning to soar in the pit of her belly. “Love you too, kid.”

* * *

“Emma,” Ruby began slowly, taking the offered seat next to her against the wall of the spacious hospital room, “I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt, because you had a weird day. But – as best as you’re able to explain – _why_ did I go down into a dark ritual chamber, dump a dressed up mannequin into a pot of boiling purple soup, and lock him inside our Mayor’s family crypt?”

“Because Henry was right,” Emma groaned, falling against her friend. “All of it.”

Ruby allowed Emma’s heavy head to rest on her shoulder, understandably dressed for the winter weather, marveling at Emma’s tee shirt ensemble. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Really, Ruby? That’s the first thing you ask?”

“It’s fucking _cold_ outside. I have your jacket in the car. I thought you’d have _something_ on.”

“I’m fine.” The blonde sat up in her chair. “So, is that literally all the questions you had for me?”

“You didn’t even answer my first question.”

“Miss Lucas,” Regina finally spoke, sitting up in her bed, her legs crossed over the side. “Emma believes that it’s time you were told the full story. The _other_ story.”

“With all due respect, Mayor, I think Henry’s told me enough over the past… four months? I’m not keen on a recap.”

She folded her hands demurely over her lap. “You still seem rather unimpressed with what you were told. Not to parrot Miss Swan, but are there any questions?”

From beneath the Mayor’s small black purse on her lap, the deputy raised a thick, heavy book, easily grasping it by her slim fingers. The shiny red letters, _Once Upon a Time_ , glimmered across the cover. “I think all of my answers are in here, if I have any.”

Regina’s eye twitched. She wasn’t very comfortable with having her history recorded and archived, and she certainly didn’t want it widely available to read. “We need to dispose of that book.”

Emma sat up, and scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ll handle it.”

The Mayor gave her Sheriff a half-glare. “Are you lying to me?”

“No. I said I’d handle it. We are not, under _any_ circumstances, getting rid of this thing. I’ll protect it with my life, and when the time is right, I’ll show it to Henry.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide, Emma. You literally told him that it was up to me.”

“Fine. Then _we’ll_ show it to Henry. But I’ll be goddamned if Snow White’s side of the story is the only reference point he’ll have for the rest of his life.”

That gave Regina pause. She hadn’t considered that. She pursed her lips. “Very well. But he will not read it unsupervised.”

Ruby looked back and forth between the two. “Holy shit. I actually saw that. Did that actually happen? Did Emma just tame the dragon?”

“Wrong witch,” Emma noted, while Regina raised a single eyebrow.

“Careful, wolf. I’m not the one who needs taming.” She turned back to Emma. “Keep it in a safe place.”

“Always.”

“The inside of your deathtrap-mobile is _not_ a safe place.”

“I opened a safety deposit box last week, ‘Gina. It’s _fine_.”

“So what happened today?” Ruby asked, handing over the book to Emma. “I’ve been kept out of the loop ever since Emma broke the emergency box and stole the axe. Do you know how hard it is to turn off that alarm? It’s probably still going! I don’t even know who to call to replace the damn glass!”

“It _was_ an emergency,” Emma defended herself. “My happiness and sanity was at stake. I was only following your advice, Rubes.”

“ _Oh, Really?_ ” Mayor Mills turned her intimidating gaze onto Ruby, who wilted a little. “She suggested chopping down my tree?”

“W-what? No! I told Emma to carve her initials. Seriously, Em? You tried to cut down her _tree_?”

“It seemed like the best idea at the time,” Emma weakly countered. “I was never gonna chop it down _completely_. Just… letting out some frustration. Just ask the mannequin, my stalker by the way – I have some rage issues. No one’s perfect.” She tilted her head towards the Queen. “It was accelerated therapy.”

“So you told Miss Lucas about the sessions, as well?”

This one, she was quick to defend herself. “She figured out our relationship. Naturally, she wondered where I kept going on my shift.”

“ _Spiritual Protection and Support_ ,” Ruby helpfully supplied. “That’s what it says on the paperwork. Anyone who wants to find what takes up Emma’s time in public records would just assume that she’s doing security for a church or something.”

“I see. What else has Sheriff Swan told you about our relationship?” Regina wasn’t angry at her partner, _yet,_ as they had been rather conspicuous to anyone that bothered to pay attention. Leave it to a wolf to sense what everyone else was obtuse to notice.

She tapped her chin. “Besides the fact that she apparently helps you perform dark rituals in your family crypt? I don’t know anything. I didn’t even read the book.”

“And yet… you’re here.”

She shrugged. “So I’m here. I’m sure you two have your reasons, but I’m _involved_ now. All I know is what Henry told me, about me. I’m apparently Little Red _and_ the Big Bad. I mean, it explains why I get black-out drunk once a month. I thought it had something to do with my period, but that didn’t match up. I guess it’s the full moon?”

“Or you just have a drinking problem.”

“Once a month?… I mean, I won’t rule it out, but it’s awfully convenient.”

“Eh, I just found out I had hidden magic that makes me invincible, so…” she shrugged.

“Partially enhanced,” Regina gently reminded her. “You are not immortal. I will not lose you to your own gallantry. I allow a deputy in the budget for a _reason,_ Sheriff. Half of the job is to protect you from yourself.”

“I’ll lock her up if I have to,” her deputy agreed, and Emma bristled, somewhat confused at the emotions that overtook her. It had been a long time since she felt surrounded by such… concern, of her well-being.

Regina noticed Emma squirming uncomfortably, and switched topics. “You may not _truly_ believe, Deputy Lucas, but whether you think we’re a family of insane cultists or not – we’d prefer to keep this situation a secret. Can we trust you?”

She wiggled her nose. “If I said anything, I’d be lumped into your inner circle of insanity. I mean, Granny’s already pissed at me for quitting. If ‘badass hunter granny’ finds out I work for you? Trust me, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Good,” she nodded, not _quite_ willing to believe her, but more willing to indulge Emma. “My purse, please. Emma, could you get Doctor Whale for me?”

The Sheriff tilted her head. “Hold on; you’re gonna rip out his heart?”

Regina didn’t look up, clasping open her purse. “That will be option ‘B’, if needed. Option ‘A’ is to _wake_ him, and have him properly diagnose me.”

“You sure? I don’t trust Whale, and Doctor Gainsborough seems competent enough.”

“I don’t recognize her, and I don’t know who she used to be. Doctor Whale, while not from my own realm, is renown for his expertise on the human heart. Geppetto needed an enchanted tree and fairy magic to cultivate life. According to legend, Doctor Frankenstein needed only a spark. He might prove useful.”

Emma gave her a concerned look. “I’m not gonna let him strike you with lightning; call me crazy.”

“Perhaps it won’t be so drastic, dear. Every problem has a different solution. I merely need the specifics, and I can brew the right potion myself. I’ll allow you to stop him if he tries to place bolts in my neck.”

“This is above my pay grade,” Ruby admitted slowly, shaking her head in her hands. “Ironic, considering all of this sounds _way_ illegal.”

“Yes, but I created the laws, Deputy Lucas. Emma was just too concerned to leave me alone in here for a minute, and while I appreciate the sentiment, she unnecessarily involved you in this. I don’t expect your assistance, especially considering your alternative loyalties.”

“I… I’m sworn to the badge, Mayor. I like Mary Margaret. From what I saw in Henry’s book, Snow White and I were inseparable. In another life, she gave this hopeless girl a chance to escape her fate. I had my shit together, once. But all I have is _my_ life to go by, and this crazy chick over here saw something more than a leggy waitress and a – hella thirsty – predator. I don’t know you all that well, Mayor, but I’ve seen the woman you were, and what you’ve become. And I’ve seen how happy you’ve made Emma – today notwithstanding. So I’m on her side. Ergo, I’m on _your_ side.” She turned to the blonde, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t speak for un-cursed me, but _I_ won’t let you down, Em.”

“W-wow…” Emma was at a loss for words. “Thanks, Ruby.” She awkwardly worked her mouth for something to say. “…Thanks. Really.”

“Anytime.” She turned back to Regina, and it was fairly odd, but rather pleasing, to see her with a little smile on her impeccable face. “My advice? I wouldn’t trust Whale. I vote for the heart idea. I’ll hold him down, and you… work your magic, so to speak.”

Suddenly, all of the eyes of the room on the sheriff, and Emma was beginning to feel like a wet blanket. “Guys, this is peer pressure. I should have the both of you arrested.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be murder, and ripping out a heart isn’t strictly against the law – “

“No, not that. The peer pressure part; bullies, the two of you.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, go for the heart. It’s the best guarantee that I won’t end up punching this one, too. I’ll hold him down. But…” she made it to her partner’s side once again, gently prying the purple nail polish from her fingers. “Let me put it on for you. You might still be woozy.”

She absolutely wasn’t; the medicine had worn off at least an hour ago, and Emma probably wouldn’t have allowed her to sit up if she were feeling any dizziness. At this point, she was doting on her, unnecessarily, and Regina _hated_ being babied.

But… really, she couldn’t say _no_ to those eyes, and she had been trying to, _a lot_ , over the past several weeks. “Is this a part of our Girls’ Night?”

Emma giggled as she spread her partner’s soft fingers across her thigh, accidentally giving Regina’s inquiry some merit. “Experimenting on horny guys isn’t my idea of a girls’ night. Not one I’d ever go to, anyway.”

* * *

The doctor wobbled on his feet, falling over to the bed. “W-what? Where…?” He held his head, grunting in pain. “What- what the hell?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Regina looked nonplussed, holding Whale’s heart in her hands, while Emma and Ruby watched in fascination. “I seem to have a poison in my heart that’s slowly killing me. It’s annoying. Diagnose it, and if it’s curable, _cure_ it.”

“I…” he stuttered, still patting his ribcage. “God, it hurts…”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. Take your time. I’m not the least bit in a hurry.”

“He won’t be able to help you.”

Emma, Ruby, and Regina turned to the door, and noticeable by her fuchsia overcoat, Doctor Gainsborough, a clipboard in her hand and a basket on her arm, blinked innocently at the sight of Whale writhing on the bed, her patient holding a human heart.

“Emma… did you lock the door?”

“I have a key,” she supplied helpfully. “This _is_ my hospital, after all. I don’t think you’re supposed to be standing up either, Mayor Mills.” She nodded towards the nightstand table, and the exotic plant that Emma had noticed before, began to bloom in front of everyone’s eyes. “It looks like your prescription’s ready.”

“My… prescription?” Regina stuttered, looking as off-kilter as everyone else in the room. “What the hell are you talking about? Who the hell are you?”

“So it’s not just me,” Ruby sighed to herself, relieved. “I thought the day was finally catching up to me, and _nothing_ was making sense. You can all see this too, right?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” the doctor muttered, not looking very apologetic as she stared at them, her green eyes shining. “I was gathering the base materials necessary for the operation.” She held up her basket of assorted flowers and roots, hanging by the crook of her arm. “Doctor Whale deals with science. I’m afraid that if he were to try to help you, he’d have to cut you open. That’s why I thought you were more comfortable with me when you called for me. I have an alternative method of healing when the need calls for it.”

“And _who_ are you?” Regina growled, her patience thinning, her grip tightening. Doctor Whale gurgled.

“I think I had a name once. I don’t quite remember it anymore. You may call me Flora, if you wish.”

“That’s cryptic,” Emma muttered, taking a step closer to the brunette. “Okay, Flora. _Flower_. Whatever. What does the plant do?”

“It puts you in an enchanted sleep. That way, the poison can recede. You have many protections around your heart; I can never hope to get through them. But if we put you in a deep enough comatose state, your heart will be able to calm to the point that the magic will release itself.”

Recognition flooded the former witch’s brown eyes. “My protection is killing me, so _you’re_ going to kill me, and weaken the safeguard around my heart?”

“Yeah – that’s not gonna happen.”

“Emma – ”

“Doctor, what’s the actual problem? She’s been very vague about this life-threatening disease, and I have no idea what you just said. What’s wrong?”

“There’s an enchantment, very dark and very dangerous, sealed within her, meant to be a protection _for_ her heart. The magic surrounding it feeds off the darkness in her heart, But I would guess that recent events have made it difficult to replenish. It’s releasing the magic back, like a safeguard, blackening her heart, and if she were still the Evil Queen, it wouldn’t be a problem, but…”

“It’s killing the light. The little light I’ve tried to regain. It’s actively trying to eat my heart.” She chuckled darkly, and Ruby and Flora shuddered at the sound. “So trying to be good, isn’t good for me? The magic that I used so long ago, to protect my heart from pain, is killing me? And then you tell me that the only way to get rid of it is to put me into an enchanted sleep? Oh, that’s just  _rich_.”

“There’s no way to get rid of the protection as-is?”

“Not without magic. Rather _advanced_ magic,” Regina added quickly, seeing Emma’s eyes light up.

“Then teach me. I’m a fast learner.”

“Other than the curse that took us here, it is _the most_ advanced spell I’ve ever accomplished, Emma. It could take months.” Holding the curiously red-ish heart in her hand, she went over to Whale. “Thank you for your uselessness, Doctor.” She shoved the heart back into his prone form, and not waiting for a response, pulled him up and pushed him out the door, past Flora, who looked rather unconcerned at the exchange. “How do you know these things?”

“I’m not from your realm. And your call button was on, so I heard some things in passing. You guys are chatty.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“I don’t think I was ever asleep, in all honesty. I moved here.”

Regina stared her down for a few more seconds, before nodding. She had more pressing matters at hand than more questions, and she only seemed willing to give more cryptic answers. “And you give your oath that your plant only puts me to sleep? Nothing more?”

“God, I hope Whale didn’t have access to a plant like that,” Ruby whispered to Emma, grimacing.

“You have my word, Madame Mayor. You will have a dreamless slumber. When the protection is weakened, I can pull the heart and put it through a cleansing ritual, and we’ll see what we can do with the safeguard in the meantime.”

“I’ll have to see what you’re going to put my heart in, but your plan seems acceptable. But if it doesn’t work…” She turned to her beloved. “If it doesn’t work, Emma, there is only one person in this realm that is capable of helping me. Either I temporarily die, or I somehow convince _him_ to disable the protection. I’d be giving him my heart, and that is already a price too high to pay.” She stepped forward, taking her Savior’s hands in her own, not minding, or plainly ignoring, the eyes of the others in the room. “We have to do this, Emma. But it’s your choice. I’m not partial to either. My heart – my life – is in your hands, yet again.”

Emma glared at her. “But no pressure, right?”

“I’d advise against that on my heart, yes. I heard it’s quite painful.”

“Doc, can you give us a few? We need some time to talk this over.”

“This is a big decision,” she assured them. “You can take all night to discuss, and I’ll even give you a sample of the flower. Not enough to put you into a semi-permanent sleep; just enough for a relaxing, stress-free rest, to keep a calm mind and a dreamless sleep. Please, use the call button if you need me. I advise turning it off first, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to RonisGirlSQ, Melanacious, and Ship_Wrecked for your reviews, and Jazzlyn21 for your kudos! You have no idea how much that means to me.
> 
> So, I cut this chapter in half, because it was very long. It’ll be up next week.
> 
> Me: I need a strong female healer/doctor role to plug in here. Whad’ya have?  
> Disney: Huh. Shit. Yeah, good luck, bro. *snickers and runs away, singing the clubhouse song*  
> (Actual Conversation)
> 
> Disney, in its vast and rich history, doesn’t have many female healers (that aren’t ungodly old witch doctors) I could have introduced to this role, in this context, nor could I find one from ‘other’ sources of Grimm Tales and Anderson Stories (and, to be fair, I didn’t look very hard). There’s Trudy Proud, Anne Possible, Dottie McStuffins, other random moms, Eve from Wall•E, and, one that makes the most sense in the context of this chapter (See: Title), on a complete technicality, Doctor “Flora” Gainsborough. Because the Final Fantasy lore has wonderful, magical tales, and is slightly connected to Disney (through one of my favorite video game franchises ever in Kingdom Hearts, but you didn’t hear that from me). Not gonna draw out that mystery, but it’s probably Lightning. Or Cloud in drag. Which is essentially the same thing.
> 
> (You don’t need to know who ~~Aeris~~ Aerith is to understand her character. I just needed her for this role, and once I thought of it, I couldn’t _unthink_ it. Regina and Emma need more friends in high places (or at least more neutral parties), and she’ll be a very helpful ally in the future, I predict.)
> 
> I won’t add too many non-canon fairy tales to the mixture (or any at all, now that I think of it), but I’ll give you a heads-up if I do. I won’t just add Iron Man for the hell of it, or have Emmalina face Kylo Ren.
> 
> But… holy shit, what a side-story that would be, amirite? (No. No it won’t.)


	11. Heartless, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Love is a weakness,’ Regina had been taught, time after time. Never has that saying been proven more wrong, or right, or more appropriate, or less relevant. Part 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thanks for your support!
> 
> Also, thank you to Ship_Wrecked and RonisGirlSQ, for your reviews, and wolfbaneXXX for kudos. A big Thank You to LSWild for both!

Up to the moment she fell asleep, Emma had repeatedly confirmed that everything the doctor told her was the truth. At least, she knew the doctor believed her own words. Her blonde partner made the disclaimer that she was a lie detector, not a prophet. Still, she was trusting enough to allow her to ingest a powdered version of the plant that had grown at her bedside. It was guaranteed to let her sleep without worries, dreamless and peaceful.

That being said, the doctor lied. She did dream, and it never felt more real.

She felt herself sinking, crawling through murky depths, fighting through the sludge. She couldn’t see anything. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she wasn’t safe here.

She wanted to go home. Home, with Henry. Home, with Emma.

Regina shrunk into herself in the darkness. She was alone; locked away. She could never escape her darkness. She could never see the light again.

And she was beginning to accept that. A faint cackle echoed in her thoughts.

Suddenly, a gentle embrace swaddled her, and she tried to turn, but she couldn’t. Momentarily, she panicked, beating into the grip clasping on to her. The tight vice was unrelenting, firm in its hold. Unflinching, determined.

It was familiar. _Gentle_. Regina slowed down. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to be possessed by the grip. She settled into the hug, and she began to move. She was carried away, and for once, allowed herself to be swept into the unknown.

And she saw the light, and felt something familiar, and distant. _True power_ ….

* * *

Mister Gold stewed inside his jail cell, his eyes closed, his mind unfocused. The light flickered, and he felt a pulse of… _something,_ until it suddenly disappeared. He ignored the unsettling feeling. The clock ticking on the wall was the only sound in the room, and every time he tried to hear it, it was oddly paced – erratic, even. It must’ve been broken.

He didn’t mind. He didn’t need to keep time. It was only a matter of days before the curse broke, and he would celebrate. Baelfire was waiting for him, somewhere out there.

“My, does this bring back memories.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but a faint smile did make an appearance. “Madam Mayor. You’re in good spirits.”

“Good evening, Gold.” She pulled up a chair. “I hope you don’t mind a little company. I’m waiting for someone.”

“Not at all, not at all.” He peeked his eyes open. “But I suspect you have something to discuss with me?”

“I do. But I’d hoped to butter you up first. Like old times.”

“Then butter away, dearie. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why? Why stay here?”

“Because that’s where the Sheriff put me. I mean, I could be over there, but this one’s further from the air conditioning, and I’d prefer not to lock up at night.”

Regina pursed her lips. He was pretending to be ignorant _again._ “Fine. Play that game. Then you can still tell me how you knew that Henry is Emma’s son?”

“I believe I did the paperwork, didn’t I?”

“I thought it was an anonymous adoption?”

“Anonymous to you – I have the paperwork. She had to sign her rights away at some point. She has a rather unique surname, doesn’t she? It almost seems made up. No wonder your son was able to find her so easily – a bounty hunter, no less! Must be genetics. Quite a habit of finding each other, and somehow, losing each other even more.”

She smirked, leaning back and crossing her arms. “So you kept tabs on her?”

“I did.”

“Did you keep an eye on the man stalking her, too?”

“August Booth? Yes, I caught the lad following her a time or two once she arrived in town. He’s just as subtle as your pet reporter following me, Mayor Mills. Your point?”

“I specifically told him _not_ to follow you.”

“Don’t be too harsh on the lad, dearie. He has a rather infamous crush on you. It’s understandable he only wants to impress you. Ah, _but_ – he was never truly in the running for your attention, was he?”

She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know how long he thought he could play this game, but it must’ve been rather tiring. She considered it exhausting, herself. “And what are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Mayor. But I do advise against embracing your Sheriff while on duty. The tinted windows of her patrol car are very reflective.” He stood from his bed, while she stayed seated on the other side of the cast iron bars. “Though I may have suffered a bit of hearing loss from that bloody alarm, I’m actually _happy_ you two settled your little spat from this morning. I’m sure your childhood plant was a small price to pay for something so… young.” She could hear the scoff in his smarmy voice, showing exactly how fragile he thought their relationship was. “Being in love is a particular weakness that I’ve never truly partaken in, but I’m glad to see your softer side. She must be so docile and trusting, you must be happy with her … and at such a convenient occasion. The mother of your adopted son? If anything unfortunate were to occur to your person, there wouldn’t even need to be much paperwork to correct her mistake of ten years ago.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she bit out, a hard edge in her voice.

“Ah, _there’s_ that familiar temper. Now you’ve gone and buttered me up – I’ve sorely missed it. But I do have an inkling that this will become my business in a moment.” He leaned against the bars, his crooked teeth bared in a hungry grin. “Well?”

Realizing her folly, she smoothed down her long skirt, crossing her legs. He had always managed to get to her, manipulate her like he did everyone else. Not this time. “How would you like to see the outside of this station?”

“I admit, I do miss the sun terribly. More importantly, I miss _my son_. I’ve been told that him claiming me, is the only way I can be bailed out, I’m afraid.”

“But we know that’s not true. A pardon from the Mayor, for life, can go a long way.”

“Or in your case, being the drunk-on-power mayor that you are, a private deal with your pet Sheriff. A ‘pretty please’ on your hands and knees,” he responded with a tilt of a laugh, and instead of the anger he expected, she only smirked.

“Drunk on power? Coming from you? You make me blush. As for making personal deals with the Sheriff, yes, well, I wouldn’t call that a fair trade on your behalf. That would be a win-win for everyone, but you love it when everyone else _loses_. Cavorting with the Sheriff isn’t a punishment, Gold. Or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten what love feels like?”

He barked out a laugh. “Love? You speak of _love_? _Her_?”

She tilted her head, her embarrassment far from showing. “Why, _yes,_ I thought that was fairly obvious. I’ve considered you a friend for years, Gold. One of my closest. I’ve never hugged you. If I hug someone in public, what does that tell you?”

“And that’s what you tell yourself? This new sensation, bubbling inside you? A word of free advice, and I don’t give that often; it’s not _love_ , dearie. It’s probably gas.”

“I’m glad I have you to tell me how I feel, because if anyone is unfamiliar about emotion, and matters of the heart, it’s _me_.”

“If there’s anyone who can correct you on your misconceptions of the heart, dearie, it’s _me_.”

“Is the green-skinned monster telling me this? Or a pawn shop dealer?” When he said nothing, she continued. “You’ve been a friend of the family for many years, Gold. It wouldn’t be hard to dig up your paperwork if I really tried looking for it. Birth Certificate, the deed to the shop – not that there’s much left of it, considering you never brought the papers forth to legitimize ownership of any of those items – and your will, if needed.

“As I said earlier, you’re a good friend of the family. And I find myself the last of my family, along with Henry. So, should anything happen to you, someone will need to claim you – you were right about that. Your estranged family will have no say, and the courts would have a field day with them if they show up years down the road, while you rot in the now. The prison record will show only one visitor. Your _official_ Will and Testament, signed off by the city of Storybrooke, will show two beneficiaries – the only family you have left. By the time you come out of this legal nonsense, ‘Gold’ will be a worthless name. I just know how much you love your irony.” She smiled gently, watching his narrowed eyes. “So, let me ask you again. Who am I speaking to?”

“Madame Mayor,” he growled, “are you threatening me?”

“What? No, of course not. I’m merely providing legal counsel; I’ve spent a _terribly_ long time to myself until I had Henry, and I had plenty of time to dabble and read legalese and such, seeing as I have a town to run and all. Am I correct so far?”

He sneered. “Need an approval from Daddy dearest, Regina? Like you could do anything on your own.”

“I know to ask for help when I need it. I’m prideful enough to learn when I don’t know something. And then the student surpasses the teacher. It’s what a Mills does.” She paused, leaning forward, her chin on her fist. “My mother was a miller. I’m sure you knew that; she asked for your help, after all. I didn’t choose the name, it was given to me. You, however, sound like a gimmick. ‘Gold’s Pawn Shop’? We couldn’t even find a driver’s license on file for you. Not a bank account, or anything. You may not even be a citizen in Storybrooke. Nothing about you, but a lone safe in your room.”

She saw a glimmer of something victorious in his eyes. “Ah. So _that’s_ what this is all leading to? Perhaps you’ve taken an interest in my knife collection. One in particular you’re looking for? I can assure you – it’s not there.”

“I have no use for weapons, ancient or collectible alike. I am, however, aware that a name has a certain _gravitas_ when it comes to legal matters. So whatever name you go by, it means a certain amount, but if you never changed it legally, then it’s almost worthless on paper. You kept your original name, and I believe it’s in the safe.”

He scoffed. “Good luck, Mayor. Trying might only hurt you.”

“I’m aware. You considered the same precautions with your safe as I did with my apple tree. The public, however, doesn’t know that. I may never be able to open the safe, but regardless, the documents will be procured. It could surface from the file cabinet, or this office, or… you know, I’ve recently gained a few friends at the hospital who could send me over something. I’m sure you know how these things work out. We just need to be more creative.”

“Manipulation is not your strong suit, Mayor.”

“Yes, well, I know it’s more your _shtick,_ but as stated before, everything you own will go to me. I’m just claiming my birthright. But let it be known that I did offer you a pardon, and you refused.”

“And _you_ asked for a favor. _On with it_.”

“I want your name. Your _true_ name.”

He slid his arms through the door, crossing them. “Is this a test, Regina?”

“It is. And I expect you not to fail me.”

“Like you’ve done countless times for me? And I assume your Sheriff Swan knows what you’re doing? She might not approve of your actions, delving into your past like this.”

Licking her lips, she spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “She doesn’t know. Ignorance can be a deeper bliss than love. Ignorance can never hurt you. Love can hurt more than anything else. A great imp once taught me that.” Her lips curled into a familiar smile, a smile that was cultivated so many years ago, and perfected, with the help of the man in front of her. “His name escapes me.”

For a moment, he looked indifferent, unbothered by her words, outwardly. Regina knew that he was weighting his options. If he kept feigning ignorance, she would simply walk away, and fashion a whole new life on the only citizen in Storybrooke with a bigger question mark around him than Doctor Gainsborough. Or he could come clean, and they could finally talk business.

He spied her out of the corner of his eye, seething, and she knew that he had made the right choice.

His fists _clanged_ against the iron bars, gold flecks in his brown eyes. “Careful who you ask for, dearie, because you never forget the name, and you’ll _never_ forget the cost. The question isn’t ‘Can I speak to him?’ The question, rather – _‘_ What am I willing to sacrifice for an audience with _Rumplestiltskin?’_ “

She clapped her hands together. “Congratulations.” Regina uncrossed her legs, finally standing up. “You passed the test.”

“And you…” he began slowly, “have made a right fool of yourself, Queen. How desperate are you to come to me? You must be _dying_ for my help. To threaten me? To risk making me an enemy?”

“We were always enemies, my dear Rumple, and you’ve never pretended we were anything but. You were always an annoyance. Always a price too high every time I deal with your insufferable rhymes. Now, you pay _my_ price.” She leaned closer, just out of his reach. “Listen closely. There is an old curse that needs tending to, that affects all of us. I need more magic. I know you have it, somewhere. Tell me where it is, and I’ll grant you full pardon, and even compensation for your ‘wrongful’ incarceration. You’ll need the spare change.”

“Dearie, if I had any magic, I wouldn’t need anythin’ else.” He rocked on his feet, gleeful at seeing her frown. “Is that not what you wanted to hear?”

“But you can get it, right? Magic? Don’t tell me _you_ of all people, can’t get magic to Storybrooke?”

“Sorry, Mayor. I taught you too well. You wanted a land devoid of magic, and here we are. Any magic you find will be actively _helping_ the curse. You should be proud.” He grinned. “So, I believe we have an agreement?”

“You should have put it in writing,” she scowled, turning on her heel and walking away. Regina knew Rumple. She was familiar with his tactics, and his over-calculating mind. And she knew he was out of options.

She had her suspicions as to his final tactic to ensure she didn’t leave the room, but having it confirmed to her filled her with a dread more than the darkness lingering in her heart. She had never cast her spells wrong, she was too disciplined for that, and she strived for perfection, even in her first days as his student. He didn’t teach it wrong, he had centuries to learn it himself.

That only left one option – the spell did exactly what it was designed to do, and he knew it. It was only a matter of –

 _“Freeze,”_ he barked, magic seemingly laced into his voice, and she slowed to a stop, cautiously. “Turn around,” he muttered, twirling his finger, and she obeyed the command.

“What the hell are you doing?” she ground out, trembling on her still feet.

He harrumphed. “You’re fighting it. I didn’t tell you to speak. But you _will_ tell me your problem.”

She grit her teeth, but the words slowly – steadily – began to flow from her lips. “The protections on my heart. It was one of the first spells you taught me, when I couldn’t even read from the book I learned from. It was supposed to protect my heart from anyone trying to remove it. You had me use dark magic to cast it, and now, it’s killing the light inside me. You… you made my love for Emma fatal. And now you’re controlling me with it?”

“The _Disciple of Darkness_ curse. It’s as if I was holding your heart myself. It’s rather convenient; you understand my reluctance to teach you this particular spell.” He clicked his tongue. “I commend you, Mayor. You’ve learned so much, yet so little. I didn’t think your heart could understand such a feeling again, after the stable boy. I was only trying to protect you from yourself. You were my investment, and becoming good again was never in the plan. You’ll find the consequences quite damning if ya try.” He gave her a fatherly frown, disappointment in his eyes. “You wanted me to teach you, and while I may have encouraged the process, I couldn’t do it for free. I never thought the spell needed to come into effect, but then again, I’d never thought I’d see the day you’d become so _weak_ and _stupid,_ either. What did I try to teach you from day one? What did your mother tell you the day she crushed the lad’s heart?”

She winced in anger. “Love… is a weakness.”

“No. We taught you something far more important. Use every strength you have. _Everything else_ is a weakness.” He motioned for her to come closer, and despite herself, she did. “I remember what love felt like, child. But I also know a great deal about sacrifice. There are things you don’t know. Things I never told you about the savior.” He tilted his head, staring into her petrified eyes. “I never gave you a name. Not a face. Not even a gender. And now, I see your downfall as clear as day. I’ve never seen this moment as clear as I do now. Perhaps I should’ve told you, but your damnable curiosity would have doomed us all before the start. I believe it’s time you knew the _truth_ about Emma ‘Swan’.”

“Emma. The mother of my son. The daughter of Snow White and King David. The Savior. My true love.” A grin cracked into her stoic features for a half-second as the shock ran across his face. “Tell me something I don’t know, imp.”

“Did you read that somewhere? Doesn’t matter. She can _cripple_ you. She’ll ruin everything you’ve made. Sure, you could try to grab her and kiss your happy ending _goodbye_ if I take away the protection, but what guarantee do you have for Miss Swan’s love? I made a promise to Cora. You and the Savior? It was in the prophecy. ‘The daughter of Cora would cast the curse. The child of the Queen would break it.’ And here’s the part where you might want to pay attention; ‘Their true love may conquer all.’” He _tsked_. “‘May’. Meaning _Might; if allowed to fester_. I am a strong advocate of fate, Madam Mayor, but I know a thing or two about loopholes. You know, just as well as I do, that your ‘true love’ is as unattainable as my own. And you’re giving her a free shot?

“This – _can’t_ happen. She can break the curse on her own time, but not at my expense, and _certainly_ not at yours. The Savior will grab you by the heart and crush you from the inside, because _she was born to defy you_ , and we can’t allow her to have that much power.” He said it all so innocently, like an all-seeing father, and Regina didn’t fall for it for the slightest second. “Look at how you’re handling things now, Regina. You may have been told that she’s your true love, but are you hers? Could she forgive a monster like you? You think your little fits of redemption can save you? You are not to trust Emma Swan. You must _kill_ Emma Swan. _Squeeze_ her heart to _dust_. For your happiness. That’s an _order_.”

 _“You_ – you’re accusing her of what you’re doing to me right now! Are you too _stupid_ to realize that?”

“Stupid, am I? I’m a realist, Regina. You’re just as much of a monster as I am. The dark magic around your heart remains strong, fueled by the darkness in your heart. It merely noticed an irregularity, and repairing the damage. Fifty years of hate, and now, it pays forward for your misstep. It’s all your heart has ever known. So no, Madame Mayor, stupidity is not a word I’d use for repairing your broken heart. Dear girl, I think we can both agree that I’m cleverer than you.”

Her eyes darted to the left, searching, and gave a stiff nod a moment later. Gold sneered, about to demand that she go out and accomplish her assigned task, before she held out her hand, silently commanding him to hush. He wasn’t under any spell, but the action in itself was enough to shut him up. “And I think we can both agree that you give yourself far too much credit.” She took a deep breath and relaxed, _visibly,_ folding her hands together behind her back. “You were right about one thing, Rumple; The Sheriff indeed stole my heart.”

Recognition came across the Dark One, his eyes comically widening, and he backed away from the door, realization quickly dawning at the Queen’s intentions. “It’s never happened before, even in your hundreds of years in existence, has it? She’s immune to my magic, you know. You may have taught me the wrong spell, but it was cast by my hand; I was at least clever enough to not allow you to touch my heart. And Emma was clever enough to realize that my magic _can’t hurt her_. Even if she came through with the curse, her magic survives. And it can’t hurt me. Because true loves… as dark as my heart was, and as dark as you made it… The light of a Savior shines so splendidly, doesn’t it?”

“You… you _didn’t_!”

She allowed herself a smile that told him otherwise. “Not what you wanted to hear, dearie? I _did_ , Rumple. I _did_.”

Static reverberated around the station. “As sheriff of this town,” he heard someone say on the intercom, followed by a _thump_ against the wall, “I’ll go on record and concur. She did.”

“Emma…” Regina blinked, her hand raising to her chest instinctively. “Did you just throw my heart?”

“No,” Ruby answered for the blonde, her voice coming from inside the cell next to Gold’s. “It was her rubber ball. At least, I hope it was.”

 _Thump_. “It gets boring back here. No, I’m not smashing your heart against a wall. Please make it stop beating so fast, it’s giving me hives.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Regina rolled her eyes, before focusing back on the Dark One, who stumbled back onto his bed in shock. “I swear, I see a little bit of that patented Charming grace every minute. She might be willing to forgive me for all of my crimes, but you, Rumple, aren’t in such a lucky position as I am – how did you put it? On my hands and knees? I’m sure you’ll get your chance, once you find yourself leaving Storybrooke for a much more permanent cell, far away from your hidden cache of magic. Unless, of course, you tell me what I need to know.”

 _“You must kill Emma Swan.”_ The distinctive voice of Gold rang through the otherwise silent station, clear as a whistle. _“Squeeze her heart to dust. For your happiness. That’s an order.”_

Against the broken silence – fractured by the annoying ticking – he gave a defeated sigh. “Of course. What d’you want?”

She leaned against the bars, staring down at him, her grin back full-force, feeling every bit the Queen she once was. “Now. I believe you were prattling on about a prophesy?”

* * *

**~Earlier~**

The small cloud of red smoke was dwarfed by the darkness surrounding it, but Emma paid it no mind. She was more fascinated, and distracted, by the fact that she was fucking _holding_ it. Something so precious, so beautiful was in her bare grip, and she should have been freaking out if it didn’t feel so… perfect. She didn’t want to compare Regina’s heart to a baby rabbit, but she held it with that level of caution and tenderness, all the same.

Holding a human heart in her hand, magical or otherwise, was vastly different than what she expected – and admittedly, she had anticipated a lot of things. She had kinda expected the heart to be slimy, and while she knew the queen wasn’t afraid to get her hands _dirty,_ so to speak, she couldn’t picture ‘The Queen’ doing something so icky as a trademark (because the act of ripping out a heart itself wasn’t icky enough), especially while holding the appearance of The Queen. She could picture her beheading her prisoners with a rusty claymore, but digging into the muck as it were, and raising a still-beating heart? She couldn’t see it.

She had a bias, she could admit to that.

It had the texture of a smooth but unpolished stone, like her foot scrubber (another comparison she would never say aloud), and it was a little cold. Okay, _quite_ cold. But it felt comfortable enough in her fingers.

“Emma?” Regina groaned awake, and Emma put on her best, albeit most nervous, smile. She watched her eyes acclimate to the darkness, before settling on the spark of red light. “ _Emma?!_ “

“Hi,” she whispered, and she knew what she must’ve looked like; straddling a sleeping Regina in a hospital bed, grasping her _heart_ in her hand, her somewhat manic smile softening into a tepid grin. _“Please_ don’t be mad. I had an idea, before we go through with the temporary death plant idea. I promise it’s not something stupid.”

Regina’s paralyzed gaze turned to what seemed to be a lump of coal in her hand, in the darkness. But she knew her own heart, and she knew when it was in danger. She had always seen the pain in her victims’ eyes when she ripped it out herself, and the agony they went through when given a direct order, and she had never felt lighter with Emma holding her, which was _not_ supposed to happen. She saw her own heart begin to beat faster, and watched Emma stifle her laugh. Her cheeks warmed. “You have my attention.”

She calmed herself long enough to let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Um, hear me out,” she began slowly, her own heart beating so hard she couldn’t think.

And without the slightest missive of warning, she kissed it.

In hindsight, it wasn’t much of a plan, but it worked for her hand earlier, at Regina’s detriment, so trying it again seemed like the obvious thing to attempt. She didn’t care what the curse did to herself – she was no stranger to pain, after all – and it felt a lot safer than temporarily killing her.

She was forced to believe in the impossible over the past few weeks, but sleeping curses were a lot different from a _coma._ And if she could wake Regina from a sleeping curse…well, she didn’t want to wait any longer. She was ready to cut out the middle man, so to speak.

Regina gasped out her name, but by the second syllable, it drew out into a long moan, and it was music to her ears. It reminded her of simpler days, when she could make the stoic mayor slip with a few words, gentle caresses, and the occasional nibble. When all they had were intimate nights, a kindred soul to lean against, and no _real_ responsibilities. A life of intriguing mysteries, and casual encounters. Simple.

She wanted to promise more – so much more than she wanted to handle, so she did what Regina had done to her hand, and poured her _soul_ into her lover’s heart.

Emma looked up, her lips sealed against the glowing red organ, waiting for Regina to breathe.

Several impossibly long seconds passed by, in the dark, quiet hospital room, on the flat, stale hospital bed, staring at the pulsing essence, the physical manifestation of what Emma yearned for.

“Emma…” she breathed, struggling to find the right words, which the blonde regarded as a small victory in itself. “What the hell did you just do?”

She pulled her mouth away from the heart, almost contemplating licking her lips. It didn’t have a _taste_ , per se, but it gave her quite the head rush. “Saved your life. Hopefully.”

“You didn’t even know what you were going to do?” Her voice was filled with disbelief. Emma felt that it was justified. “You could have poisoned yourself! You may have _already_ poisoned yourself! You _promised_ you weren’t going to do anything stup- Emma, there’s a _reason_ I don’t just reach into your chest and take out your heart! It takes concentration – _discipline!_ There is _always_ a risk involved!”

“Really? Miss Secret Nail Polish? You really think I couldn’t piece it together? Don’t think I didn’t notice every time you applied a fresh coat whenever I went to pee! It didn’t even _match_ your dress once! Were you just gonna rip out my heart if I dine-and-dashed, or cancelled early, or didn’t put out?”

“It was a _fail-safe!_ I thought you were – _no,_ it doesn’t matter! I never _used_ it!”

“Well…good. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t use the polish, either. I just… believed in myself, I guess.” She eyed the heart again, barely registering the shock in her lover’s eyes. “Your protections… your magic. It doesn’t affect me, right? Just like the tree? So I figured I could heal you again. We can heal each other. But you said you don’t have magic, but you could heal me. But your heart was surrounded by magic, and fed you… dark magic?” She wrinkled her nose. “I think True Love magic works like the Force. It’s just really helpful, and really hard to explain. The rules change every week.”

“And that’s what this is?” Her voice was shy, suddenly, reminded of the softly glowing stone in front of her, barely recognizing the light in her own heart, barely understanding what she felt. And she remembered her strange dream, moments before she woke up, and inspected her heart again, held in her partner’s strong hands, her gentle embrace. “Love?”

And she was hesitant to admit what it was that she had just witnessed, too. When the curse didn’t break in her backyard, Regina had assumed that what they shared, wasn’t quite love, but something close. When her hand was healed, she had come to the conclusion that Emma didn’t believe in magic. When Regina healed Emma’s hand, she finally put the blame on herself; she put it on her incapability to love, _truly_ love. She put it on the protection spell that she had used as a safeguard, protecting her heart from the wrong hands, and what she perceived, the wrong emotions.

And like a bull, or what Regina was nicknaming as the ‘Swan’s Grace’, Emma had cut through her most powerful protection, and made her heart feel like it had never left home.

Yet, it didn’t explain why her protection prevented the curse from falling.

“I’m holding your heart in my hands,” she reiterated, after a slight moment of hesitation. “I just _kissed_ one of your _internal organs_. It wasn't even as gross as I thought it was going to be; I’ll use tongue if I have to, I swear. I don’t think I could put over the symbolism any further than – ”

“Emma, darling,” she gently chided, her lips curled into a little smirk, and Emma almost shuddered at how her queen looked in the soft red glow. “You’ve been deflecting.”

“I…” she deflated, settling her full weight on Regina’s waist, and her only response was to curl her fingers in the belt loops of her jeans. “Okay, _maybe_. You have, too.”

“Pointing the blame is not healthy, dear. But you’re right. And I’m not one to admit when I’m wrong.”

“A healthy trait for any relationship,” she chuckled, leaning down. Regina pressed a finger against her lips, and Emma looked down at her, cross-eyed.

“I’m in a hospital bed, Emma. I don’t advise breaking the curse here.”

She mumbled something, and Regina rolled her eyes before removing her finger. “That’s how I figured it out. It’s what we _choose to believe_. If we _had_ a curse to break, you’d be right, and we’d be in trouble. But this whole remedy is based on belief, right? _Intent._ Regina, I _never_ considered it a curse. I never believed in it, like you do. I mean, I know it exists, but it’s _protecting_ you. It’s protecting _this._ It’s a goddamn blessing, ‘Gina, and if it breaks… _everything_ changes.”

She curled her lips in amusement. She had never seen it that way. Leave it to Emma Swan to point out the obvious, even when it would’ve never occurred to her.

Her smile faltered. _‘Everything changes.’_ “Henry and I were discussing this earlier. Should the… ‘blessing’ fall, we should leave. We would no longer be safe here.” She stared, unflinching, into Emma’s transfixed eyes, and she didn’t look the least bit surprised by the news. _‘Praying for a goddamn blessing.’_ “When you said that everything would change….”

“Yes,” she finally admitted, “a shitload. I mean, Mother Margaret loses a roommate, and a daughter I guess, in one day, but she’s kinda used to that, so no big loss, there. We have to decide on a new place to go, but I _just_ got this shiny new driver’s license for Maine, and Long Island is too packed, so I was thinking maybe Brunswick? We’ll have to get the Tillmans’ number, so Henry can keep in contact with Ava and Nicholas, and swear Ashley and Sean to secrecy – if they still want to be around us, of course – and we probably, in all likelihood, might have to fake our deaths.” She took a moment to let in a breath, no break in letting the words fly out of her mouth, because she knew she might not have been able to get it out otherwise. “And yeah, I might’ve done some scouting ahead while you were asleep, but – I want to do this, talk about it with you. With you and Henry. As a… you know… as a family.”

Regina wanted to blink away her tears, but she just couldn’t remember how to look away from those honest green eyes. “You’re serious. You want this. With me?”

“I am,” she whispered, almost to herself. “I do. I believe in us. I believe in this… this magic we have. Heh. Literally, figuratively; whatever we want to believe, right?”

Regina bit her lip, tentatively reaching up to stroke her savior’s cheek. “I… Emma… dear Emma… We’ve never really had a fair shake when it comes to our beginning, did we? I can’t think of a better fairy tale ending than faking our deaths, my love.”

“To a better beginning… My _true love_ ,” Emma muttered, and despite her trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, the words left her lips trembling, and Regina leaned forward to capture them.

Between them, a palpitating, reddening heart was gently introduced back into her chest, and a surge of energy, of _light,_ flared throughout her entire being. She breathed out a heavenly sigh, before catching Emma’s tongue.

The bittersweet scent of cinnamon wafted in the air, moments after the candle on the nightstand flickered to life. Neither paid any attention to the small, unnoticed act of magic, nor did they notice that it was timed perfectly with the flare in the brunette’s eyes, silently beckoning her knight to worship her queen.

Emma did just that like it was her job, and she was oh-so-willing to prove just how much she loved her career, the woman who gave her a new beginning…

Her new family. Her new life. Something worth believing in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're satisfied with the story so far, quite a few more twists and turns ahead before the curse breaking, and the hard pivot to Emmalina's side of things. Part one and two went through… quite a few rewrites, even after my website release. But I’m proud of how it turned out. Or rather, how they turned out.
> 
> When I first watched OUAT, I saw the slight obsession with ripping out hearts, and my first childish thought was – ‘Are they gonna do a Kingdom Hearts crossover? Because why else would they talk so much about hearts and/or darkness?’
> 
> They didn’t, of course, and I was always a little bit (pardon the pun) heartbroken. It’s probably the most popular Disney project (other than Lion King, I guess) they didn’t involve in the show pre-2010. Hell, they had a Tron lunchbox as a recurring character. So... fair game.  
> I am considering a character that is very dear to my heart, and perhaps most of yours, as well. It will be the last non-OUAT character, I think, so this won't be enough to jump the shark, I hope.
> 
> Want to argue a good defense? Want to support it? Want to say anything in general about this chapter, other chapters, or the story? Try reviewing!! Please?
> 
> A special Thank You to RonisGirlSQ and Ship_Wrecked for your reviews!


	12. The Fairest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying goodbye had never been so diplomatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something fun I wrote before the Christmas chapter, which, incidentally, won't be out on or before Christmas. I haven't written it yet, but it should be sufficiently joyous and festive, I hope.
> 
> Dedications: Alexander S, Ranma (Matty), AtomicStryker, mxwn, and tryllejens. Thank you all for your support!

True Love’s Magic.

That’s what Rumple had called it. A title that lacked in creativity, but as Emma had pointed out, most magic tended to be straight-forward in their names. “Sleeping Death Curse,” she brought up as the first example. “True Love’s Kiss, Enchanted Wood, Land Without Magic Curse…”

“I never named it that,” Regina insisted. “I never gave it a name. If anything, it was labeled as _The Dark Curse_.”

“What would you have named it?” she challenged, smirking.

“A far more creative name than that,” she grumbled, and Emma laughed, hugging the brunette tighter to herself.

She had quite missed the boring monotony of The Mayor’s Office. They had taken to the habit of visiting each other on their lunch breaks in the past, but due to the presence of Gold at the Station, Emma found herself more comfortable in Town Hall, sitting from across the desk of the Mayor at her most elegant, her most professional, and while she had never gone to school, she suddenly realized that she might have had a _major_ authority fetish.

Today, however, wasn’t the case. Today, she got to sit in the Mayor’s seat, and she basked in it. “This is so comfy. How do you get any work done?”

“I manage.” Regina, currently sitting in her lap, hadn’t complained much when Emma pulled her in to take a seat. “I admit, your lap leaves much to be desired for comfort.”

“Would you like a pillow? You’re the one that insists on feeding me salads.”

“Emma, I’ve seen your diet. They are the only vegetables you’ve eaten since coming to this town, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re not wrong. Maybe I need to eat _more_ junk food, to keep you in my lap.”

“I honestly don’t know how you’re able to eat as much as you do.”

“It’s a gift.” She hummed, rotating the Mayor’s chair to maneuver her feet on the corner of the mahogany desk. “We should’ve done this more.”

“I see you’re having fun. I’m used to being productive when I come into the office. I’ve not skipped a workday of my duties in twenty eight years.” She shook her head, suddenly realizing why Emma had insisted on going to work and continuing as normal, despite their decision to leave the small town behind. “You made me come in today just to sit in my chair; even though I have the exact same chair in my office at home.”

“It’s not the same. This is _the_ chair. The myth; the legend. Where all the deals are made, where the laws are signed. Where the _real magic_ happens.”

Regina blinked rapidly at Emma, wondering if the blonde had finally lost her touch with reality. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Emma… are you trying to seduce me in this chair?”

“Why, Madam _Mayor_! What made you think _that_?”

“Well, dear, your hand has been under my blouse for the past ten minutes.” She pointed to the offending limb, wandering her rib cage area. “To start.”

“We were talking about food, ‘Gina. I just wanted to see if you were hungry.” Her smirk was wicked, and Regina was suddenly reminded of a very different definition of ‘hungry’. “But now that you mention it…”

“Darling, there are several problems with playing out your authoritative fantasies here. For one, there are security cameras in here. I’ve allowed this much because I don’t particularly care about a little tabloid shot now that I’m in the last week of mayoral duties, but I am _not_ going to show whoever on the other side of that camera a scandal worth impeachment. I’d rather step down with a modicum of grace. I may have been an Evil Queen, but I have always been a good Mayor.”

Emma frowned, glancing at the camera that pointed directly at them in the top corner of the room. “Who do you think will come running if we put a sticky note over it? Cause that definitely doesn’t lead to the monitors at the station.”

“Perhaps we’ll try to find out when we’re ready to leave. But not today. Which brings me to number two; while we’re here, I wanted to introduce you to someone, and they’ll be arriving shortly; your stalker. Your _other_ stalker.”

She tilted her head, green eyes focusing a little more. “Oh?”

Emma, Regina and Ruby had returned to the mausoleum after interrogating Gold, and August was waiting for them, fully human, with a miraculously healed face, and in Emma’s opinion, still very punch-able.

Unfortunately, he was lying on the floor, halfway towards the entrance, and unresponsive. Regina had assured her that the entire process required a fair amount of energy, especially with the repairs done to his face, and crawling out of the chamber pot may have temporarily depleted him, while the potion did its work. Emma put cuffs on him and hoisted him out of the mausoleum, having no problems with putting him in a holding cell until he awoke.

That was the previous night. She didn’t know if he was awake yet, or just feigning sleep, but she was sure Ruby would call her once he awoke, having spent the night at the manor, and drove Regina to Town Hall herself.

“I believe it’s time you two met face-to-face. And, it couldn’t be a better time to tell him about our plans to leave.”

“Are you going to warn him? Tell him to get the hell out of dodge?”

The brunette grimaced. “I’ll warn him about the curse falling, but I won’t tell him to leave, or where we’re going. He was my spy, no one knew his face. Besides, I think he’ll be quite pleased to part ways with me.” She smirked at the blonde. “Just… please restrain yourself from pummeling this one. Cameras, witnesses and all.”

She scoffed. “Who would they call? Security? The police? Sure, I’ll let Ruby tag in.”

“Regardless, my sweet, if tragically corrupted sheriff, punching a paparazzo in the face would not give you the best reputation, moving forward with our lives.”

“You’ve clearly never been to New York.” She sighed. “Fine. But I had no intention of punching him, anyway. He was just following your orders. Booth had it coming.”

“I won’t disagree with you,” Regina slowly began. “But we’ve yet to hear his side of the story.”

“You saw the leather jacket he had?” The brunette nodded easily. “The typewriter he had in his motorcycle? Hell, the motorcycle itself?” Again, another nod. “That stuff is expensive. That’s premium leather, and a vintage motorcycle. He either bought it, or he stole it, or he got _really_ freaking lucky at a thrift store. A drifter, with nothing better to do than to stalk me? To follow me around a town for almost three months? No debit cards? Not even a driver’s license? He must’ve stolen it. You told me he was the one stealing from Gold’s shop, and I bet he sold off most of it for rent and gas money.”

“Perhaps. But how he lives has nothing to do with how he left you, or why. Don’t you wish to hear the explanation for his methods of… guardianship?”

“I don’t need to. I’ll hear him out, but whatever he says is just gonna piss me off even more. He’s not arrested, but he’d better stay in that cell if he knows what’s good for him. Ruby has the keys for a reason.” She huffed. “Let’s talk about something else. Glass? The Magic Man in the Mirror?”

“Inaccurate on both points, in this realm. But yes, he is the person who will meet with us in a few minutes. He’s punctual.”

“Alright.” She rested her cheek on Regina’s shoulder. “And now we wait.”

The Mayor squirmed. “Emma, I hope you don’t think you’re keeping me like this.” She met a challenging stare. “What?”

“You don’t want him to see you like this?”

“I don’t want – ” She stopped herself, and pursed her lips. “You’re jealous? Of _him_?”

“I’m not jealous… I’m possessive.”

“And what does this accomplish? He’s my slave. _Property_. Are you looking to do the same to me?”

“If we’re talking about marking property, we can start with the concealer I had to put on my neck this morning, and how _you_ made me put it on. Look, I _know_ I don’t have anything to worry about, but I want to make the message clearer than a few love bites. It’s not every day you get to meet your girlfriend’s man-servant. And, bonus, if he tries to kill me, I have a reason to punch him.”

Regina quirked her lips. “I have no idea what to do with you.”

“I have a few ideas, but for now, uh, try scooting in a little bit; get comfy.”

She let out a tiresome sigh, before acquiescing. “I do hope you’re enjoying this, Miss Swan. Indulging you to this degree was a mistake. Henry began to grow tired of sitting in my chair when he was _six_.”

“Oh, admit it, you’re having fun. I know you have a hella long list of revenge plots to get through before we leave, so let me have my little bit, and we can run through the list together.”

“I admit that I have an itinerary. I wouldn’t describe its length as ‘hella’. But my days of revenge are over, Miss Swan. I feel rather neutral towards Snow White, for the moment.”

“Well, I’d hope so. She still has Henry.”

“Yes. She’s also your mother – in case you forgot.”

“Some part of me wants to forget. I still can’t fucking see it. I mean, she’s _my_ age.” She licked her lips. “You know, you never told me exactly how old – “

“And I might never tell you.”

“I’m going to find out, ‘Gina. I can just backdate.”

“If you need to tell yourself that. You will _not_ be hearing it from me.”

“I’ll level with you. You already know I’m twenty-eight.”

“And as far as you or I will ever be concerned, I am thirty-three. Perfectly acceptable.”

“What if I like the idea of having a cougar? A nice sugarmama to provide for me, in return for making sure I satisfy her every desire? I mean, you already pay me.” She hugged Regina to herself when she felt her start to get up. “Okay, _fine_ , forget I said anything!”

She huffed. “Your mother is fifty-five. Figure it out from there.”

“Okay, so six– “

“But do _not_ say it in front of me.”

Emma frowned. “Regina, you know that doesn’t matter to me, right?” She felt her stiffen in her arms. “Seriously, ‘Gina. I was just playing around. It’s just… kinda fascinating to me. To be able to freeze in time. You get to be so _beautiful_ , and be so _wise_. You get the best of both. I’ve seen your study, I’ve seen the mausoleum. You have two mini-libraries. And I’ve bet you’ve read through most of them, pre-Henry, and never got a single wrinkle under those pretty brown eyes.”

Regina relaxed, steadying her breath. “It’s not the easiest thing to talk about, Emma. I’m well over twice your age.” She smirked. “You should be more specific, however. Technically, the curse is post-Henry as well.”

Emma opened her mouth, before she clicked it shut. She tried again. “That was… dark. I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“I’ve come to peace with what I had to do, to my father, to get here. My only regret was that he died in vain.”

The blonde was quiet, for a long moment. She had her own opinions of Regina’s father, but none of those opinions would have been helpful right then. “He wanted to give you your happy ending. Your, um, fixation on Snow’s downfall, might have misled you. He knew that you wouldn’t find that happiness from just making her suffer.”

“That is still debatable.”

“I think he knew that you needed to get that closure. And I think you have, a little bit I hope.”

“Yes, well, taking her happiness was the goal of my curse. My happy ending was entirely based on her being alone and miserable. I created an entire reality to do so.” She frowned. “As it turns out, all I needed to do since the very beginning, was rob her cradle.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And _that_ , dear ‘Gina, is why I wished I could forget.”

Regina chuckled wryly. “I prefer to think of the positives. Without the curse, I wouldn’t have Henry or you. I think I understand what you were saying last night; I’ve only seen it as a curse, because it’s only been labeled as _a dark curse_. If anything, that was the only name it was given. But it’s exactly what I wanted. I guess, to the caster, it’s never really a true curse, is it?”

“With that mindset, it’s gonna be near impossible to break it, huh?”

“I suppose.” She blinked innocently at her savior, her brown eyes searching. “We could just leave, Emma. You, me and Henry. Let them live for a few years in ignorance. There’s no way for them to go back; the Enchanted Forest was destroyed with the curse. Leaving them with their memories, now, would just be an unnecessary burden.”

Emma tilted her head back, considering it. She liked the idea. Hell, she loved it. Quite frankly, she wouldn’t mind staying in Storybrooke if there was a guarantee that people wouldn’t suddenly remember everything and break out pitchforks. “What about the prophecy? The one that says that I’m the savior, and I do savior things, like break curses?”

“You heard Rumple; _I start the curse. You end it._ “

“ _Our true love may conquer all._ ” She brought her head back up, locking onto Regina’s eyes. “Hard to forget.”

“Much easier to believe. Whatever happens, Emma, whatever decision we make, we’ll do it together. Yes, you’ll have to break the curse. That seems unavoidable. Actively avoiding it would be a foolhardy attempt.”

“And if we tried to make another curse? One that would send them back and make a new kingdom?”

“It had crossed my mind. But it would require another sacrifice. I won’t entertain that thought.” She pursed her lips. “It doesn’t say when the curse would have to be broken.”

“Would it work while we’re already gone?, Like, let the curse fall, in Storybrooke, from Brunswick?”

“I have my doubts. Trying to subvert fate doesn’t bode well. I’ve tried. Leopold comes to mind. I cursed myself so I could never carry his spawn. And now, I have Henry.”

“And now I’m carrying you.”

She rested her head on top of the blonde’s. “You can find the humor in everything, Emma.”

“Just tell me when to stop. I can be varying levels of cutting, and I tend to cross lines, according to – um, everyone I ever knew.”

“Don’t stop, especially on my behalf. I require your unique perspective. Never change.”

_“Mayor Mills? You have a visitor; Sidney Glass from the Daily Mirror.”_

Emma reluctantly unfurled her hands, finally allowing the Mayor to move away. Regina reached for the button on the phone, before settling back into her surprised girlfriend’s lap, wrapping her Sheriff’s arms around her waist once more. “Send him in, please.”

* * *

Twenty-eight years ago, Storybrooke, Maine had grown out of the ground fully inhabited, out of nowhere, and no one knew, or could even acknowledge it. No one, except three people; The Evil Queen, The Dark One, and the former genie of Agrabah.

The Evil Queen had woken up in a large manor one day, with a shorter haircut and a comfortable set of silk pajamas, a strange apple and cinnamon stick pattern. From there, she survived, and learned, and eventually, she conquered all over again.

Mayor Regina Mills was ready to close that chapter of her life, and finally – _finally_ – move on. She felt it pertinent to inform her two most loyal servants.

Sheriff Graham Humbert, in her mind, was the very first step towards her redemption. Her final order to him was to cross the town line, and never return to Storybrooke, with a very generous severance package and an arranged abode in Rhode Island. He happily agreed, and before he knew it, she had slammed his heart back into his chest at the town line. It was the one and only time he ever smiled in her presence, and it made her feel… less than evil.

It was a start.

With Sidney’s, and more recently, Pinocchio’s help, she had been restoring the hearts to her past victims, and it was easier than expected, since no one in the town actually believed, they couldn’t really see the heart for what it was in front of them, even when it was shoved back into their chests.

Emma was surprised to hear the extensive list of individuals. A hundred and eight, she told her. _A hundred and eight_ individual hearts, at any given time, was in her possession.

Henry’s principal was one of them. “I may have exaggerated when I told you she was a dear friend. Trust me; it would seem that the only people not on Snow White’s side either had their hearts taken by yours truly, or didn’t have one to begin with.”

Doctor Archibald Hopper was another name on the list, and that didn’t surprise Emma in the slightest. “He doesn’t even have a real degree. He wouldn’t even remember making an oath never to tell my or Henry’s secrets. I had to guarantee our discretion.”

“And you didn’t use him to make sure he told you everything you wanted to hear?” At Regina’s incredulous look, she shrugged. “It’s what I would’ve done.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She frowned. “The things I could have made him say about Snow…”

“Wait. If you were controlling him, does that mean that _you_ wanted me to go to the meetings with you?”

“No. He was insistent upon that. He believes he earned that degree, and he believed he couldn’t help me any further without your presence.”

“I should thank him. I’m still glad you told me.”

She pursed her lips. “You knew everything.”

“I did. But you told me. And that counts for something.”

“You are far too forgiving for your own good, Emma.”

“Perks of being the Savior, I guess.”

Across the desk, Sidney Glass nervously cleared his throat, and Regina rolled her eyes in annoyance, while Emma gave him a calculating look, still sitting in the Mayor’s chair, still holding the Mayor tightly.

“I want to thank you, Sidney.”

His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Of course. Anything for the Queen, ma’am.”

He didn’t know what to make of the situation in front of him. The Queen, completely enamored with the Savior, the daughter of the fairest, and the feeling being mutual from what he could see – and his sight reached quite farther than some would expect. Sure, he had harnessed something of a torch for the Evil Queen, but he had lived a cursed existence since his second imprisonment, to look, and to never touch, to never truly see her.

Now, he felt he was seeing her for the very first time. As he gazed upon her happiness – her true happiness – he felt sick and elated, pitying her and envious at once.

Envious because he had always wanted to be the cause of her genuine smile, rather than the vain one she had prepared for the mirror, slightly mocking, when he spoke his daily drivel, before Snow White became the fairest of them all.

Piteous because he knew, that this happiness could never last. Not with all she had done in her past. Not with everything he had seen her do. Some things, one could never atone for.

She’d have to forgive herself, first, and he didn’t think that was even possible.

“That’s not why I’m thanking you.” Even with her chin on the Queen’s shoulder, her arms laced around her midsection, her eyes bored into him, and the atmosphere felt… heavier. “It might have been hormones, or maybe you genuinely wanted to do the right thing, I don’t know. But I told myself I would look you in the eye and thank you. So… thanks. Thanks for killing Leopold.”

“…Oh.” He let out a breath, and in all of his years, he had never seen Regina so suddenly surprised, and… moved?

The blonde’s eyes were still focused, looking through him. “You betrayed your friend, the man who granted you freedom, and killed him. You murdered a King just to save a pretty girl. I might not like the motive, but any world is better off for what you did. No one bothered to protect her. No one gave a shit.” She closed her eyes for a second, and he could see her trying to compose herself. His queen rubbed circles on the back of her hand, and he had never seen her inspire such calm. “I just wanted to thank you for doing what no one else had the balls to do, and for seeing what everyone else chose to ignore.”

“Emma…” the Queen whispered, her heart wrenching with the woman beside her. To thank her grandfather’s murderer was one thing, and a massive thing at that, but to do it because of… her?

“She doesn’t have magic,” Emma muttered, and had she opened with that, Regina would not have been too accepting on her exposing that secret. As Emma probably intended. “And when people regain their memories, she’ll be public enemy number one. We pissed off Gold in a major way, and he’ll have her on some list or whatever.” She took a breath. “But I do. Have magic, I mean. I have no idea what to do with it, but I have it. I’m the only person in this whole town who _does_ have magic, and I want to keep it that way.” Her arms tightened, minutely, and Regina didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable. “That list of hearts that she has; it’s a long one. But you’re not on it. I mean, magic or not, you’re free, right? The wish was null and void? So, some part of you still cares for her. I can respect that. So, I don’t know how much this means to you, but I’ll protect our queen with my life. As you probably would have.”

Regina forced her eyes away from her beloved’s for a moment, just knowing that the sheriff could feel her heart beating, as if it had practically been in her palms again. “I have a final task for you, Sidney.” She waited for the man to come back from Emma’s words, because _dammit,_ her speeches were so much more impressive than her mother’s. “We need every advantage we can get. You have returned almost every heart, and other than a few loose ends, my time here in Storybrooke is coming to an end, and if you choose, so will yours.

“Gold, however, will be here, and he is very much awake. He managed to bring over some magic, through the mines, and I’m betting he intends to release it through the heart of this town – the wishing well. The last time you were in this office, we discussed our plans for the mines. I’ll take care of the well myself, with the leftover explosives. If the dwarves are competent enough, the city won’t cave in, but just in case, you should evacuate the city before the second round of detonations.”

Sidney nodded. “The structural integrity of the mines are intact. It will be a very controlled explosion.”

“Good,” she agreed, before removing her glasses – much to Emma’s chagrin. “I believe that concludes our meeting, Glass. And, your services to me. You are… you’re dismissed.”

A very long time ago, his greatest wish was to gaze upon her, in her beauty, always. But as he left without a word, struggling not to look back, he realized that her levelheadedness had never been more pronounced than it was at that moment, and though he could no longer objectively see her as she was, her fair beauty was matched only by her partner.

He wondered if he really did regret his wish. And a part of him wondered if he would wish for it again?

“Very neutral of you,” Emma snickered, her serious expression crumbling as soon as the former servant left their sight. “I’m sure he feels the love.”

“He’ll feel the love in his severance,” she responded primly, relaxing against the blonde, letting out a rough sigh. “Other than Rocinante, and Daddy, he was the closest to a friend I had. He always knew my innermost thoughts, my deepest wishes… Miss Swan, stop it.” She could practically _feel_ the blonde’s grin against her shoulder.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Oh? Then what was I thinking?”

“I have no idea what you were imagining in that devious head of yours, but whatever you’re thinking, _didn’t_ happen.”

“For the record, you didn’t accurately guess what I was thinking, and I already know that. I read your biography, remember? I’m pretty sure the book would’ve told me about you doing a cam show in front of your mirror.”

“…”

“Oh, right… um… so a cam show is basically a performance – “

“ _Emma_. I _know_ what a camera show is.”

“You do? Really?”

“It’s in the name,” she turned, throwing her partner a suspicious look. “You really do have a deviant mind. What were you thinking, then?”

“ _Daddy_ ,” she quoted, her smile bright, and Regina groaned. “That’s the first time you called him that in front of me.”

“It slipped out,” she grumbled, trying, yet again, to pull away, but Emma was having none of it.

“It’s good. Hell, it’s great. You’re still comfortable in front of me. I wasn’t worried or anything, but… I like hearing stuff like this from you.”

“The topic of how I killed my father isn’t something I’m keen to discuss, even with you.”

“I know. But I already know about that part. I want to know about you and him. The moments leading up to it. I wanna know about the man you loved so much, you named our son after him.”

Regina blinked. This was _entirely_ different from what she expected her to say. “Emma…”

“Sorry, sorry, that came out a little insensitive. I just… that book had a very depressing narrative. I noticed that you never asked about seeing it. You’re not even curious about it, or where it came from. You don’t want to read it, you barely want to think about it, and I get that. I never want to read that thing again, and I was right with you when you wanted it burned. But… it’s important. God knows I want to forget the shit I’ve been through most times. I _want_ to forget Neil, but like you said, Henry is the best thing that ever happened to us. Through everything, you have to remember the positives. Despite everything, you became a mayor. Despite everything, we have each other.” She gave a helpless shrug. “I saw your downs. I’d love to hear about your ups, too.”

“…”

“Or not. You know. When you want. I’m patient. Most times.”

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, darling. But not now; tonight. Right now, I have a small task for you.”

“Hm?”

“Lock the door. And grab a post-it note.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur, inspecting the attentive blonde with an appraising eye. “I want to share something with you as well, Emma. I’m not into voyeurism – as Sidney would have been very quick to confirm – but I’d love to fulfill your fantasy before I leave this office behind.”

Emma blinked rapidly. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Insubordination?” she questioned, spinning her legs around to straddle her lover properly. “Can’t have that, can we sheriff? What with the encroaching riot, I need to confirm your _unquestioning loyalty_. Your mayor _needs_ your vote of confidence.”

“Regina,” she warned, and the brunette’s smoldering grin softened. “Look, I love what you’re doing… I _really_ fucking love what you’re doing right now, you don’t even know… but isn’t this… abrupt?”

“Emma, I told you I couldn’t do this because we had an appointment, and we are currently being spied on. I never said anything about not liking your idea.”

“And when we get home?”

“When we get home, you, Henry and I will have a talk. I imagine it will be a long conversation, well after Henry’s curfew. But you reminded me of the good things in my life, and why I suffered. You are right; I want to forget. I could have made myself forget, easily. I have potions for that. But those experiences made me who I am, and despite my past, I have always been proud of my accomplishments. And, there are more natural, wonderful things I could do to forget the negative occurrences. Such as… you.”

Emma gulped.

“Stop giving the other side of that monitor a free ‘cam show’, Sheriff Swan, and let me show how much I appreciate your love, by showing you mine in the most expressive way I can. Will you let me do that?”

She nodded blankly, and before Regina could even adopt her trademark predatory grin, the blonde stood, effortlessly gathering the mayor in her arms again, gliding about the room. “Emma!”

“Not enough space. Not soundproof enough. Not enough time.” She eyed the hanging surveillance camera in the corner of the room, and winked. “Not enough film. Let’s go home.”

“Could you at least let me down?”

“Only if you can keep up.”

“Was that a challenge?”

“See, _that_ , Madame Mayor, that would be insubordination. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know this is a weird story. Contextually.  
> Emma and Regina, more or less immediately fall in love, no real context or history involved, and also, I told you the 'end' of the story in the first chapter.  
> This story was supposed to be a simple retroactive continuity fic, and that's what we're still leading to. I just felt the overwhelming need to justify the plot, by putting exposition behind it.  
> This was supposed to be a crackfic. I don't know how this happened. The magic behind Regina and Emma was the idea that they didn't fall in love immediately, like every other couple in the series did. It took years of hardships, pain, anger, understanding, reluctance, acceptance, and finally, companionship. The popularity of this pairing in this fandom, was the result of the idea of this couple making too much goddamn sense, in the end.
> 
> Unfortunately, I don't enjoy writing the first half of that, and I'm even worse when it comes to reading all that drama. Besides, since I plainly ignored the basis of their canon relationship, that makes this story a bit unique, incidentally.
> 
> What I'm trying to say is: Thank you, all of you, for indulging me as I write out this particular niche for myself, where ~~(long rant deleted)~~ look, I just want the comeuppances to be just, and my favorite characters to be happy and ~~(long gushy sap deleted)~~.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading this crack-fic. I love and appreciate all of you who read this, and especially take the time to leave a comment.
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and have a Very Happy New Year!


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